New To Me (Phan)
by phanoutlet
Summary: Dan thinks himself to be straight. That is, until Phil enters the picture. Set in high school in which Phil is the new kid and Dan begins to develop feelings that are completely new to him. (AU, Dan POV)
1. Chapter 1

"Dan, meet Phil"

I looked up from my phone to see PJ standing over me, lunch tray in hand. Next to him stood a black haired, blue eyed boy, whom I can only assume was the aforementioned Phil. "Hey," I said as I stowed my phone away, feeling it would be rude to continue browsing tumblr. The two set their trays down and sat opposite me.

"Hi!" Phil greeted me in response, smiling crookedly as he did so.

"Phil's new here" PJ added.

"Yes, I gathered that." I remarked.

"Just moved here from... where was it again?" PJ asked turning to Phil.

"Lancashire."

"And how are you liking it here?" I asked, feeling as if I should make at least a little effort to socialise. It's rare that PJ ever brings anyone back to our table. He only does it when he deems them worthy enough, and evidently Phil seemed to have passed the test.

"It's not bad. Teachers are nice enough, met some cool people." Phil said politely, nodding his head.

"But I'm the coolest though right?" Chris suddenly appeared at the table, moving my bag onto the floor so he could sit down next to me. "The name's Chris by the way. Spiffing to meet you."

Before Phil could respond, PJ interjected with "No. No. No. I'm the coolest person you've met so far, right Phil?" Both PJ and Chris leaned toward Phil with their best puppy dog eyes on display. I shook my head slightly, smirking _. Idiots_.

Phil chuckled and glanced between the two of them, before flicking his eyes over to me. "No, I think Dan wins that contest." I cocked my head in confusion. I've barely said anything? "The t shirt." He added helpfully, nodding his head at my shirt. "That automatically earns you the title of 'coolest'." I glanced down at the shirt that I was wearing today. A plan black tee with Muse written across it. As the shirt itself wasn't particularly stunning visually I can only assume he's a fan of the band. I looked back up to Phil and made to comment on it when PJ and Chris started up their usual banter.

"But look at _my_ shirt. It's got this neat little breast pocket with a fancy button and everything." Chris was saying, holding his pocket open to Phil as if to prove that it was indeed a pocket.

"But look how devoid of colour Dan's shirt is. Mine's got blue and purple, and look there. A little red circle." Proclaimed PJ dramatically, pointing out each of the colours individually.

This continued on for a while. Phil laughed at the pair of them, occasionally interjecting his own thoughts on their outfits. Adding bizarre suggesting like, "Maybe if it had a lion on it. I'm a fan of lions," to which Chris and PJ came back with their own equally bizarre retorts.

Silently observing all of this I was impressed at how confident Phil seemed. You'd think being the new kid would be daunting, but he didn't look at all nervous or anxious. I suppose it helps finding the right people. Trust PJ to be able to instantly detect those he knows will get along with the group. It's like a sixth sense of his. He's never once been wrong in his judgements, and it seemed as if Phil wasn't going to be an exception.

Phil glanced over at me, and it was then that I realised I was staring. I smiled awkwardly back before turning my attention to the half eaten bread roll in front of me.  
Me, I'm not as friendly as PJ and Chris. Like I think I'm generally a good person. I'm kind and thoroughly non-intimidating. I'm just not as outgoing I guess. I'm not one to go out of my way to strike up a conversation with someone.

The bell rang signalling the end of lunch. "What do you have now, Phil?" PJ asked. Phil pulled out his timetable while Chris leaned over in attempt to read it upside down.

"Hey! Media! Dan that's your class!" Chris proclaimed. Phil put his timetable away, and smiled at me.

"At least there'll be one friendly face." Phil said.

"Friendly? No. Dan's the school bully." PJ said seriously. So seriously in fact that Phil momentarily had a look of genuine confusion and concern on his face.

"Oh, yeah. He has this really violent streak. Just look at him the wrong way and he'll fasten a shiv out of the nearest object and gut ya right there and then." Chris added, motioning stabbing someone with his fork.

At this point Phil had gathered that it was a joke and laughed before swinging his bag over his shoulder. "I am truly terrifying." I added sarcastically to him. Most definitely sarcastically, as I had about the same level of evil as Winnie the Pooh.

"Just refrain from any wedgies and swirlies. We want our Philip to actually survive his first day." Chris said, before he and PJ headed off.

I swung my bag onto my back and headed off toward the computer labs, with Phil following beside me. "Your friends are very entertaining." Phil remarked as we made our way to class.

"Oh yes. They're a hoot." I don't know why everything I say comes out sarcastically. It's like my default setting. Even when I am being genuine (as I do actually find Chris and PJ hilarious to be around) my brain automatically translates the words into such a way to make me sound facetious.

"You're not as talkative as them." Phil pointed out. "Why is that?" I glanced over at Phil to see him intently studying my face. I flicked my eyes toward the floor to avoid his intense gaze. Eye contact. That's another thing I've never been great with.

I shrugged. "I'm just not a chatty person I suppose." I realised how boring I must seem compared to Chris and PJ. And not that it really mattered to me before, but I found myself actually caring what Phil thought of me. So, breaking my usual habit of not going out of my way to make conversation I said, "So, uh, you like Muse?" I cringed internally at my awkward attempt to keep the conversation flowing.

"Yeah, yeah. I love it. Especially Origin of Symmetry."

"Oh me too! Which songs in particular?" I asked, actually excited to have found someone interested in the same music as me.

To my surprise, the conversation just kept going from there, and with virtually no effort on my part. Phil, as it turns out, loved a lot of the same stuff that I did, not just music. We liked the same games, the same foods, the same shows. It was incredibly easy to talk to him. So easy in fact that we spent the entirety of class doing exactly that.

I could see myself becoming good friends with Phil.


	2. Chapter 2

It's only been a couple of weeks since Phil arrived at our school, but it seems far longer. He was an instant fit into our little gang. Same interests, same hobbies, same sense of humour. Just generally our kind of person.

"And with that I dub thee, Sir Phillip of the Fantastic Foursome. You may rise." Chris announced, after having tapped a kneeling Phil on either shoulder with a wii remote. Phil stood up from his 'knighting', barely able to conceal his laughter as he thanked Chris for the honour that had been bestowed upon him.

The events that led up to this bizarre moment were perfectly ordinary. We were all at PJ's place playing video games and just hanging out (an almost daily occurrence) when Chris decided to announce that Phil needed to be officially recognised as part of the group. And as such, needed a knighting ceremony. Obviously.

"Sir Phillip. That has a nice ring to it." I said as Phil resumed his place beside me on the couch. Yet another great honour to have been awarded to him. Usually Chris sits on the couch with me whilst PJ, ever the thoughtful hostess, sits on the floor. But with the addition of Phil into the group, Chris nobly gave up his seat. A true testament to Phil's likeability.

As for me, well I've called eternal dibs. I'm not going anywhere.

"Certainly much more respectable than Sir PJ," agreed Chris nodding his head. PJ playfully shoved him in mock indignance.

"With a title like that you're sure to have your pick of fair maidens." PJ said.

"Or wenches. Prostitutes deserve love too, PJ" said Chris seriously. Literally, the king of straight facing.

Phil laughed and waved them off. "I think I'll pass. I don't really swing that way." he said offhandedly.

"What, prostitutes?" Chris asked, confused.

"No... like, girls." Phil replied. His clarification was met was silence. He was gay? I wouldn't have guessed. Not that I'd really thought about it. I just kind of… I don't know, assumed he was straight. I think I have a second cousin or something that's gay but I'd never met anyone else. And as far as I knew, nobody at our school was.

Lost in my own train of thought the silence continued. "Am I… revoked of my knighthood?" Phil asked jokingly, though I detected a hint of uncertainty and perhaps even sadness behind his tone.

"No! Of course not!" I interjected quickly, feeling stupid and a little guilty for not having assured him quicker. Of course it was okay. It was just unexpected that was all. It took a little time to process. Evidently PJ and Chris also had the same momentarily lapse as they then quickly jumped in with reassurances of their own.

"It's totally fine." PJ said, his usually playful tone replaced with one of sincerity. Temporarily replaced, mind you. "I mean, find _me_ the right guy and who's knows what'd happen?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows seductively at Chris who, in turn, blew a kiss in his direction.

Phil seemed to breathe an audible sigh of relief. All of the tension and panic that have seemed to have built up in him in those brief moments of silence disappeared. His eyes met mine and I smiled encouragingly, trying to convey all the things that I wanted to say but sounded too sappy for my liking: ' _it's okay with me', 'thanks for trusting us with that', 'we're not going to treat you any differently'._ I didn't know if he managed to get all that, as his eyes only met mine for a fraction of a second before hastily flitting back to the TV.

And that seemed to be it. The games, the banter, the jokes: they all resumed as normal. It was as if nothing had happened, which I'm sure Phil was grateful for. As far as I could tell he seemed perfectly at ease. Not in the slightest bit regretful about having made such a personal revelation to a group of people he'd really only just met. I liked Phil, and I wanted him to be comfortable around us. There was just something about him that made you want to protect him, to make sure that he's happy. That brief flicker of sadness on his face from earlier was almost physically painful to see. And I'll be damned if I ever be the cause of that again.

* * *

Over the next few days I couldn't help but pay attention to Phil. I began noticing little things that I hadn't initially picked up on. Like the fact that he always wore odd socks, and that he rarely ever swore. The way that he covered his mouth every time he laughed and the way he would awkwardly rest only two fingers inside his pocket instead of his whole hand. I don't know why but I became consciously aware of everything that he did. On more than one occasion I've found myself staring at him, not really realising what I was doing.

I didn't know if anyone else knew about Phil being gay. I hadn't heard anything about it around school and you'd think that it would be a highly controversial story in a conservative school like ours. But then again, it seems damn near impossible for anyone to hold a negative opinion of Phil. The students loved him, the teachers loved him. He'd somehow managed to find the perfect balance between charming and awkward, unlike me who sits a lot further down the awkward end of the spectrum. If anyone were able to identify as anything other than straight and receive zero negative backlash, it would be Phil.

But I was a little worried nonetheless, and perhaps that was the source of my sudden interest in Phil. Although he received nothing but reassurances (and the occasional harmless joke) since coming out to me, Chris and PJ, I didn't know how everyone else at our school would react. And that genuinely concerned me. Did anyone know at his old school? Was he bullied because of it? Is that why he moved here? All of a sudden it became clear to me that I knew surprisingly little about Phil's back story.

When did he realise he was gay? How did he realise? Did he have a boyfriend? So many questions flitted through my mind, greatly enhancing my curiosity. I wanted to know more about Phil. I _needed_ to know, to satisfy my near insatiable intrigue. And so I made it my goal to find out more about the alluring and enigmatic being that is Phil Lester.


	3. Chapter 3

"AmazingPhil? Really? That's what you're going with?" I asked sceptically.

"Yeah! It's cool! It sounds like a Magician's name. I always wanted to be a magician." Phil replied. "That, or a weatherman." he added seriously, after a moment's thought.

I shook my head, smiling down at my laptop as I typed in the name. "I don't even know how to respond to that."

We were sat on my bed together, and by sat I mean I was in a sitting position while Phil, who had made himself at home, lay sprawled across the covers. We were in the middle of creating YouTube profiles for ourselves at the request of our media teacher: the aim being that we would upload all of our assignments onto the site for marking.

I'd never really had a study partner before, usually preferring to be by myself. But it was nice working with Phil. If I didn't understand something or if I missed an instruction I could just ask Phil for clarification. I've always been one of those people too stubborn to ask the teacher for help and, consequently, have had my fair share of stress-related breakdowns. But I didn't mind asking for help from Phil. I didn't know why that was, but it made for a pleasant change.

After finishing creating Phil's channel I started on mine. "So what does that make me, MagnificentDan?" I asked Phil sarcastically, continuing on from the conversation before.

Phil considered this for a second. "No, you're not magician-y enough to pull that off."

"What the hell does that even mean? That's not a word!"

"Sure it is! Magician-y: Having an air of mystic and great magical potential."

"Right, of course." I said rolling my eyes. "My mistake."

"How about, Danisnotonfire?" Phil asked.

"Wha- why?" I asked, thoroughly bemused. "Where on earth did that come from?" Phil looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. Why was he the one confused?

"Because," he began with the tone of one explaining to a toddler why 2+2=4, "You're not on fire." he concluded matter-of-factly.

I simply stared at him. I'd noticed that Phil often comes out with strange things like this. You'd think it'd be frustrating but with Phil it was more endearing than anything else. "I'm also not drowning, or being attacked by a swarm of freaking bees. There's a lot of things that are _not_ happening to me."

Phil shrugged. "I don't know, I just thought it had a nice ring to it. Certainly better than Danisnotbeingattackedbybees, don't you think?"

I sighed in mock exasperation, but typed Danisnotonfire in anyway. "I suppose it does sound kind of cool." I admitted begrudgingly. I mean, it's certainly unique and bizarre enough to be memorable.

"Don't you mean 'it's kind of... _warm_?" Phil asked, poking me in the side and waiting for a response to his joke.

"Jesus Christ." I muttered under my breath. But I couldn't help it: it made me smile a little. This was usually how our conversations went. Phil being a total dork and making lame puns and me pretending that I'm not amused by them.

"You know, your room's very devoid of colour." Phil observed, looking around the walls of the room. This was the first time he'd been over my house, though you wouldn't guess it by his sitting position. I looked up and surveyed my room as well. It was rather dull. Grey walls, black duvet, the occasional poster and the odd trinket. It was basic but I liked it. It felt very me.

"Colour's too cheerful. That's not the kind of vibe I want to be putting out there." I said.

"We're so similar in so many aspects, yet complete opposites in others." Phil noted, shaking his head.

"You mean you're room _isn't_ a dark and soulless abyss of sadness?"

"No, quite the opposite. My bed sheets alone are so bright and colourful it's like sleeping inside a skittles packet."

I chuckled. "And isn't that everyone's dream. I'll have to see what that's like."

Phil raised his eyebrows at me. "Inviting yourself into my bed? How very forward of you." he said jokingly.

"Shut up." I laughed, playfully hitting him in the face with one of my pillows. Although he knew that wasn't what I was insinuating I could feel my cheeks grow warm. And the award for speaking without thinking goes to...

"No, but in all seriousness you should come round some time." Phil said. "Because the house is still relatively new, everything's still relatively clean."

"Sounds good." I smiled.

"We could have one of our games days over there. I'm sure PJ would appreciate not having his house trashed for once."

My smile faltered slightly. Oh. He meant that we, as in me, Chris and PJ, should come over. Although that still sounded fun, I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that it wasn't just me he was inviting, as I had initially thought. I think I had subconsciously equated being the first one invited over to Phil's house to being his favourite.

But why should I care if I'm his favourite or not? I know that he was only messing around on his first day when he said that I was the coolest person he'd met so far, but a part of me loved hearing that. And maybe that part of me started to actually believe it.

Perhaps it was the prospect of no longer being the back up friend that appealed to me. You know, the one that you're not really that close to but you'll hang out with if the friends higher up in the ranks are busy. I've always been aware of how close Chris and PJ were and recognised that most of the time I was the third wheel. I didn't think it ever bothered me. But surely it must have because what other reason would there be for my sudden clinginess? Maybe I just want to be someone's 'go to' friend for once. That must be it.

"Yeah, sounds good." I said again, but with much less enthusiasm than before.

Still it would be nice to see where Phil lived. You can learn a lot about another person based on their house. Whether they're clean or messy, what they like and dislike, how they spend their free time. I might even get to meet some of his family while over there. See how he interacts with his parents and find out if he has any siblings. I really did want to get to know Phil more, and this seemed like a step in the right direction.


	4. Chapter 4

Phil and I began spending more and more time together. A lot of that time was spent filming and editing for our media class (which, by the way, quickly became my favourite class). Although I'd only known him for around two months, I already felt closer to him than I did with either PJ or Chris. And call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that the feeling was mutual.

There was just this infectious happiness that Phil carried with him wherever he went. He was constantly upbeat, constantly smiling and making jokes, just the most genuinely happy person I'd ever met.

So in other words, completely opposite to me. I had initially thought that that would be a problem. That our personalities would clash too much and I'd soon grow weary of the constant positivity but, oddly enough, I can never seem to get enough of it.

Without my consent his bubbliness seemed to rub off on me. I'm happier when I'm around Phil. I find myself smiling more, laughing more, talking more. The other day I literally started a conversation with a random person from my maths class for no reason whatsoever. _Just to chat_.

This wasn't me. But not going to lie, I didn't hate it.

"How on earth can one suck so badly at Mario Kart?" Chris asked incredulously one day. Another typical day of gaming with the 'Fantastic Foursome'. And we were indeed at Phil's house, as Phil had suggested.

"Hey! I'm not that bad." Phil whined as he finished dead last for the third time in a row. He was _that_ bad. He lifted the controller to his mouth and pretended to bite it in frustration before throwing it to the floor.

"I don't get it! What am I doing wrong?"

"It's not a peaceful drive around a suburban neighbourhood on a lazy Sunday afternoon, Phillip. This is _Mario Kart_. You need to be aggressive. Show no mercy." Chris said emphatically.

I snorted. "Phil's personality's too adorable for that. 'Aggressive' isn't in his vocabulary." I said.

"I can be aggressive!" Phil crossed his arms defensively but his barely concealed smile indicated that there was no real hostility behind his actions.

"Oh really? You sure about that, Phil?"

Before I knew it Phil tackled me into the couch and began hitting me with one of the cushions. I laughed as I tried to shove him off. It was only until after Chris 'tsked' impatiently at us that Phil gave up on the attack. The midst of a Mario Kart tournament was clearly no time to be messing about.

Phil flopped back in his seat, his black hair ruffled and his cheeks flushed a light pink. He poked his tongue out at me and I rolled my eyes in return.

"You guys make such a cute couple." PJ remarked, eyes now glued back to the TV. "I'd ship it."

It was an offhand comment with no real seriousness accompanied with it, so I didn't think much of it. I looked over to Phil prepared to exchange a ' _get a load of this guy_ ' kind of a glance, except Phil didn't meet my eyes. In fact, he seemed determined to look in other direction besides mine. And his pink tinged cheeks had turned several shades darker.

I looked away, feeling my own face now growing warmer. "I'm going to go get a drink," I announced, hastily getting to my feet. "Anyone want anything?"

After a chorus of no's from Chris and PJ and a mumbled "there's filtered water in the fridge" from Phil, I left and headed to where the kitchen was.

The first thing Phil did when we all arrived was give us a brief tour of his house. It was a nice place. Nothing too big and fancy, which meant that it wasn't too difficult for me to remember where the kitchen was.

With my hand on the fridge door I looked over to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. I was also able to remember which one of those doors led to Phil's. He had pointed vaguely at each of the doors, summing up what lay behind each of them: parent's room, Martyn's room (which he then clarified as being the name of his brother), bathroom, laundry, and at last, his room. But he hadn't actually shown us inside.

I hesitated. Do I dare?

Though I doubted I'd be able to pull the 'I got lost' card, I figured that Phil was nice enough, and we were close enough, that he wouldn't get mad if he caught me snooping.

I threw caution to the wind and allowed my curiosity to lead me to Phil's room. It was indeed far more colourful than my own, although I guess that's not that impressive a feat.

Posters covered the walls and the ceiling. Some I recognised from my own room, like the Muse one hanging on his wardrobe. Others I can't say have ever graced the walls of my room, like the giant Sarah Michelle Gellar one pinned above his bed. I couldn't help but smirk at that one.

And the famous bed sheets. Not as skittle-y as Phil described, with squares saturated in different shades of blue and green, but just as bright as promised.

His desk was cluttered with an assortment of things, ranging from papers to CD's to little stuffed animals. I picked up a lion from amongst the mess and smiled as I turned it over in my hands. It was all so… _Phil_.

A picture frame caught my eye. It featured a younger Phil, probably around 12 or 13, with his arm draped across the shoulders of another boy, who I'm guessing was Martyn. Though this Phil had a rounder face and sported a dreadful bowl haircut, you could tell it was obviously him. His smile had stayed the same.

"The kitchen's back that way." I spun around suddenly, caught completely off guard. Phil was leaning against the door frame. My heart had jumped into my throat at his sudden appearance but I instantly calmed down when I saw his expression. He wasn't mad. He simply looked amused.

"It was the room with the fridge and the oven. You know, the one that you passed on your way here." He smirked.

Although relieved that he wasn't upset with me I was still embarrassed to be caught.

"Right." I said, the warmth returning to my cheeks. I made to leave the room when I remembered that I still had the lion in my hand. "I'll just...uh… put this back." I said awkwardly, placing the lion on the desk.

I could sense Phil's contained laughter as I walked past him into the hallway. "Shut up." I said, embarrassed.

Phil didn't respond. He just smiled goofily as he followed me back to the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

I don't think Phil intended for us to stay over. It just sort of happened. We had continued playing games well and truly into the late hours of the night, oblivious to how late it really was, until eventually Phil's mum came downstairs with blankets and pillows in hand. We took the hint.

Chris was out like a light the moment his head touched the pillow. He was sprawled awkwardly, and what looked to be uncomfortably, across an armchair. Unlike PJ, who was sound asleep in his own chair, he hadn't had the sense to lift the footrest before nodding off.

After much insistence on Phil's part, and much protest on mine, I took the couch. Phil was adamant that he would be fine on the floor to which I said was stupid. Of course I wasn't going to make him sleep on the floor. It was his house, after all.

But for one so kind and gentle Phil firmly stood his ground and showed no indication of backing down. I had then suggested he go sleep in his room. A suggestion which he also shot down. I gave up in the end.

Although the couch should have been the most comfortable out of all of the options available, I couldn't sleep. In general, couches aren't designed for people over 6 foot tall to sleep on. That mixed with Chris' snores and PJ's sleep talking, it looked like I was in for a long night.

My eyes had adjusted to the dimness and I had taken to counting the small ornamental squares on the ceiling. I had just reached 41 when I heard PJ mumble something along the lines of, "perky with a chance of wallflowers."

I quietly sniggered and then started when I heard someone else do the same. I rolled onto my side and looked down to see Phil wide awake, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes met mine and we instantly burst out laughing. I was well aware of how late it was and how loud we were being, but I couldn't help it.

"Does he normally do that?" Phil whispered, once his laughter had died down a bit.

"All the time." I whispered back, still grinning.

After talking some more it became evident that Phil wasn't falling asleep anytime soon either. Although he refused to admit it, I'm pretty sure it's because the floor turned out to be highly uncomfortable (which is exactly what I predicted, might I add).

I scooted over to one side of the couch and patted the spot next to me, indicating he should join. Despite his denial about the floor's lack of comfortability he happily obliged, dragging his blanket along with him.

And for the next few hours we just talked. Sometimes about trivial things, sometimes about things of a more personal nature.

Perhaps it was the stillness of the night or the darkness of the room that eliminated all potential awkwardness. I found myself instilled with the sudden confidence to ask Phil all the questions that I had been compiling in my mind, and he answered them without hesitation.

The topic eventually turned to the future and life after high school (cue existential crisis). It was our final year after all, so you'd think I'd have my plan pretty much worked out by now. You'd be wrong.

I sighed. "I have no fucking clue what I'm going to do." Although the tone I was going for was one of nonchalance, I could hear the genuine worry laced in with it. I think Phil heard it too.

He paused for moment before responding. "Do what makes you happy." He said simply. As if it were actually that simple.

I didn't respond. For some reason this frustrated me. Of course to him it's that easy. Everything makes him happy. He could have the worst job in the world and still find a way to enjoy it. Still be able to find the silver lining.

Didn't he understand that for some people it just doesn't work like that? For some people happiness doesn't come that easy. You have to work hard to find it and when you do, you cling to it for dear life because God knows if you'll be able to find it again.

"I had a best friend back at my old school." Phil said, filling the silence. I wasn't sure how this was relevant but thought it best not to interrupt him anyway.

"He died just before I moved here." He said. "That's actually _why_ we moved here."

I looked at Phil. Really, truly looked at him, and it was like I was seeing him for the first time. I saw a crack in the façade and through it a seemingly endless expanse of sadness. It was as if he'd suddenly thrown open the doors to his inner most thoughts, with every hidden feeling and emotion that usually lay beneath the surface on clear display.

"It's taking a while, but… I'm learning to swap some of the sadness with happy memories that we had together. Because I know for sure he wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life being sad."

I remembered back to the photo frame on his desk. Perhaps it wasn't his brother in the photo after all. "Phil, I'm so sorry."

I had never understood why people said sorry as a way of comfort. I had thought that if they didn't do anything wrong then they had no reason to be apologising.

But perhaps people apologised in those situations because there was nothing they could do. Although they had no hand in inflicting the pain maybe they felt bad because they couldn't come up with a way to numb it. At least, that's how I felt.

"I know that you think I'm incapable of sadness. It's what everyone thinks. But I'm not immune. No one is." He said quietly, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of his blanket.

At that I felt the guilt settle in the pit of my stomach. That was exactly what I was thinking.

"I just figure life's too short to spend any of it being unhappy."

I stared at Phil, amazed at how profound he sounded, and the ease with which he could jump from one end of the serious scale to the other.

It was only when the first rays of dawn came creeping through the blinds that Phil and I eventually drifted off to sleep. I slept peacefully, pleased with the fact that I had added more pieces to the Phil Lester puzzle in that one night than I had in the entire two months that I had known him. And the image was at last taking shape.


	6. Chapter 6

When I woke up I kept my eyes closed, wanting more than anything to keep sleeping. Chris and PJ's argumentative banter was ringing loudly in my ears, forcefully waking me up from a slumber that I was not prepared to leave.

Although I knew it was futile a part of me figured that if I kept my eyes closed and ignored the noise, I might be able to fall back asleep.

It was only when I felt a sudden breath of wind on my neck that my eyes flew open, alarmed. I lifted my cheek from what turned out to be the top of Phil's hair and looked down to see Phil resting on my shoulder, clearly sound asleep.

My first thought was how envious I was that he was able to sleep through Chris and PJ. The lucky bastard.

My second thought was me actually registering the fact that Phil was nuzzled against me. Him and I had obviously fallen asleep sat upright and at some point in the night (or more accurately, morning) slumped against each other. And now I was being subjected to Phil's breath fanning against my neck with each rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

It tickled, sending goosebumps all over my skin. Although my face flushed at the intimacy of it I was half tempted to stay like that just so I didn't have to wake him up.

That is until PJ, who was sat on the floor in front of me next to Chris, noticed that I had stirred. He turned around and grinned toothily up at me. "Morning sleeping beauty!"

Chris looked around too, pausing the game that they were playing. "Have a good sleep, did you Dan?" Chris asked wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Face growing warmer I hastily nudged Phil off of me and scooted a good foot away from him. He yawned silently, his fists rubbing at his closed eyes in a very childlike manner, as if trying to wipe the sleep away.

Chris snickered at my response and held his hands out in a placating gesture. "I know, I know. It's none of my business what the two of you get up to in the dead of the night. But just promise me you'll invite me to the wedding, okay?"

"Shut up." I mumbled embarrassed. I leant forward and shoved him playfully.

"Of course you'll be invited," PJ joined in, "but I'm afraid the position of Best Man's already been filled, hasn't it Dan?" he asked, pointing to himself and mouthing 'pick me'.

I glanced sideways at Phil, who was blinking dazedly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. I couldn't tell how much of the conversation his sleep clouded brain was registering.

"We were actually thinking of having a terrifying cross breed of the two of you." I said, recovering from my fluster and going along with it, which led to PJ and Chris high fiving triumphantly.

After a few more rounds of gaming, with me and Phil not actually playing but silently observing, PJ put down his controller.

"I suppose we should think about heading off. I'm guessing we've well and truly overstayed our welcome." PJ said, stretching.

"Unless…?" Chris held up his controller and shrugged his shoulders innocently at Phil, suggesting that the gaming marathon be continued and seeking permission for it to do so.

Phil, tired looking but now properly awake, shook his head. "I'd love to, but I'm meeting up with a friend today."

Everyone, me included, paused. "You have friends outside of us?" Chris said appalled, clutching his chest as if in pain. "Phillip, how could you?" he cried in mock indignation.

His reaction may have been ingenuine but mine sure wasn't. I could feel the new found clinginess resurfacing inside of me, demanding answers. What the hell, Phil?

"Wait, friend… or _friend_ friend?" PJ asked mischievously with eyebrows raised as he waited for clarification.

Phil didn't say anything in response, but the blush that crept up to his cheeks and the way he awkwardly shifted in his seat was answer enough. Both Chris and PJ gasped in comic synchronicity. "You saucy minx! Go on, give us the dirt!" Chris said.

"There's no dirt. We're just hanging out... in a, you know... date like fashion." Phil responded, and was immediately greeted by a chorus of 'oohs'. Face now a deep beetroot Phil buried it in his pillow, through which a muffled "I hate you guys" could be heard.

Chris and PJ immediately launched into a ruthless interrogation, demanding all the details and leaving no stone unturned. As much as I would have liked to have jumped in and rescued Phil from the obvious awkwardness that he felt, I too was curious to know more. So I stayed silent.

"Now, is Charlie the one that sits in front of us in English?" PJ asked.

"No, he's the one from History. You know, with the hair." Chris replied.

"Ahh yes. The one with the hair. That rules out all of our bald classmates, thank you." PJ said sarcastically.

This went on for quite a while, during which Phil seemed to sink further and further back into the couch with embarrassment. The look on his face indicated that he wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by it entirely.

I wanted to be pleased for Phil, but I wasn't. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't find it within me to summon any happiness for him whatsoever. Instead all I could feel was this gnawing pit of jealousy and unease.

For some reason the idea of Phil interacting with anyone other than me, Chris and PJ at school never even crossed my mind. Which was completely stupid. I had forgotten that most people, you know, the ones that aren't me, actually talk to new people. They introduce themselves, make conversation, befriend them even.

The concept was so foreign to me that I hadn't considered the possibility that Phil had made friends in his other classes. And of course he had. He was the friendliest, bubbliest, most likeable person on the planet.

I should have been happy with how easily he transitioned into our school. I should have been happy that his sexuality didn't hinder his ability to fit in. I should have been happy that he was happy.

So why wasn't I?

Needless to say that although I had never met him, and failed to even place a face to the name, I was not entirely thrilled about the mention of Charlie.


	7. Chapter 7

Charlie had started joining our table for lunch and with him came a couple of his friends, none of whom I'd ever met prior to their arrival. It really reminded me of how few people I actually knew at the school.

Our group of four had almost doubled in number and I didn't like it one bit. With PJ and Chris alone I could barely get a word in but now it seemed almost impossible, and I was left to sit there awkwardly (which admittedly, was what I did best anyway).

Thank God for Phil though, for making my lunchtimes somewhat bearable. He alone picked up on my unease and went out of his way to include me in every conversation. And when that inevitably failed he would sometimes distance himself from the conversation altogether and just talk to me instead.

This always earned me a few glares from Charlie who sat on Phil's other side. But it never bothered me. In fact, I relished in it.

To put it bluntly, we didn't like each other. From the get go I didn't like him and he didn't like me. I didn't know if anyone else had managed to pick up on our mutual distaste of one another, but Phil certainly didn't. He remained blissfully ignorant of the silent war Charlie and I waged for his attention.

Would a good friend have taken a step back and allowed Phil to spend time with his boyfriend? Yes.

Was that what I did? No.

I couldn't help it. I didn't cope well with jealousy.

In other circumstances Charlie and I would have probably gotten along. He wasn't a necessarily a bad guy, and neither were his friends. But I had just gotten used to the idea of having a best friend, and already I felt as if I were being replaced.

I know Phil didn't mean to do it but we were gradually spending less and less time together. Whenever I asked if he wanted to hang out he would already have plans to do so with Charlie. He seemed genuinely upset at having to say no each time so I could at least breathe a sigh of relief that he wasn't intentionally distancing himself. But still.

Fuck you, Charlie.

I stared glumly at the contents of my plate, in no mood to eat any of it. Nobody around the table really noticed and the lunch time chatter continued unperturbed. Not that I was paying any attention. It was just background noise to me.

Out of the corner of my eye I studied Phil. I watched him as he talked and laughed and smiled. If I could ignore the fact that he had his fingers intertwined with Charlie's underneath the table, I could almost fool myself into thinking things hadn't changed.

Phil didn't notice me staring, but PJ did. I looked up to find him casually leant back in his seat with arms folded, silently observing me. When we made eye contact he gave me an amused smile accompanied with a questioning cock of his head. I quickly looked away, silently cursing myself. So much for subtlety.

"What do you think, Dan?" Phil said to me, nudging me with his elbow and making me jump.

"…about what?" I asked, uncertainly.

Phil chuckled. "Has anyone ever told you how amazing of a listener you are?" He said with a grin. "The party." I looked at him blankly. "On Saturday." Still nothing. "At Stephen's house." Nope. Didn't ring a bell. "That guy over there." Phil said nodding his head at one of Charlie's friends.

I rolled my eyes. I knew that much.

"It's going to be fun. Right, Charlie?"

I looked over at Charlie who was fuming quietly in his seat. For I'm guessing Phil's sake alone he plastered a fake smile on his face and said, "Yeah, you should come." My brain automatically translated it to 'I'm obligated to invite you but I really don't want you there.'

"A party? Well that sounds exactly like my kind of thing. Dancing, socialising, drunk strangers having sex in the corner. I love it." I said, voice positively dripping with sarcasm.

Phil frowned in mock devastation. "C'mon, Dan. Pleeeeaaase." He nudged my shoulder playfully with his own and I decided to ignore the fact that this was all Phil had to do to make me smile. Against my will I felt the corners of my mouth curve up. Curse you, Phil. "It'll be fun."

I was just about to refuse again when Charlie spoke first. "Yeah, and don't worry about the whole people having sex in the corner thing." Charlie interjected. "We have class. We'd at least find a closet." He said indicating him and Phil.

The smile slipped from my face. I really didn't need to hear that. I did not find that amusing in the slightest. I looked to Phil for his reaction but didn't receive much of one. He simply chuckled uncomfortably under his breath. No, not exactly uncomfortably. Nervously?

Was Charlie's joke not so much of a joke after all? Was he being serious? Why was Phil flustered? Back the fuck up.

No, I most certainly did not want to go to the party. Oddly enough I didn't find the prospect of me sitting alone in a room full of people I didn't know, and didn't want to get to know, while you fucked Phil in some closet somewhere, all that appealing. So thanks for the insincere invite but I would literally rather be anywhere else.

"I'll be there." I said, ignoring Charlie and addressing Phil instead.

I internally face palmed. I don't know why I said it. It was a terrible idea. A truly awful 'I'm going to regret this later' idea. But Charlie's look of complete annoyance and Phil's breathtaking smile were both enough to convince me that it wasn't.

I returned Phil's smile, except mine was a smile of pure gloating rather than excitement. My eyes met Charlie's, challenging him to revoke his invitation now that I'd shown interest.

"Great." He said through gritted teeth.

"Great." I countered, still smirking triumphantly.

Phil looked between us, smile still in place and oblivious as ever. "Great!"


	8. Chapter 8

I was not having fun. I knew that I wouldn't and I still decided to go anyway. Because I'm an idiot.

I thought that with Chris and PJ there it would be slightly bearable. Except that they weren't there. Not the ones I was used to anyway. No, they'd been replaced with drunk Chris and PJ, which was a very different thing.

PJ was talking absolute nonsense. Nothing he said had any relevance to what was going on around him. And Chris took to pointing at random people in the room and saying to me "I dare you to dare us to make out." To which he would then dissolve into a fit of giggles.

It was all very amusing to start off with, but then it got annoying when I realised it was hopeless trying to hold a conversation with either of them.

I wasn't really in the mood to join in on the drinking, and I figured at least one of us should remain sober enough to see that everyone made it home alright.

Phil had spent the start of the night with us but left around the one-hour mark. Charlie had come up behind him, whispered something in his ear, and grabbed his hand. Phil smiled apologetically at me before allowing Charlie to lead him upstairs.

So I sat myself on a couch, arms crossed and scowl in place, as I stewed in my own moodiness and tried very hard not to think about what they might be doing.

"Woah, who stepped on your sandcastle?" I jumped at the sound and looked up to see a girl who I vaguely recognised from school standing there, drink in hand and smirking down at me.

"What?" I asked, blinking uncomprehendingly. Only half of my brain was focused on her, the other half having followed Phil upstairs. The girl sat down next to me.

"Why the pouty face?" She rephrased. I didn't answer her. I was too distracted trying to figure out who she was. I couldn't for the life of me remember her name, but I was almost certain that I had talked to her before.

"Cat." She said. Cat? Now she was beginning to sound like drunk PJ.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

She laughed. "It's my name. You looked as if you'd forgotten so I thought I'd help you out."

"Oh… right." I said, laughing awkwardly. I remembered her now. She was the girl from my maths class that I talked to that one time, when I was in a particularly good mood.

Except now I wasn't in a good mood. I was torn between my desire to be left alone and my reluctance to be any ruder to this girl, whose existence I had literally forgotten about until that moment. As I hated being rude (to anyone but Charlie) I faked a smile and continued the conversation.

Cat was friendly enough. She did most of the talking so I just politely smiled and laughed where appropriate.

Between the unnecessary arm touches and the way she gradually inched her way closer toward me I was about seventy percent sure she was flirting with me. And after she grabbed my phone without my consent and saved her number into my contacts that figure rose to one hundred percent.

She didn't ask me to call her, and I didn't promise her I would. It was the perhaps the vaguest and least pressured way anyone had ever asked out another person before. Not going to lie it actually improved my mood a little bit. It was nice having someone flirt with me. I felt wanted. And it made for a good distraction from Phil.

But the distraction came to an abrupt end when I heard a loud crash coming from upstairs. Although they were probably tonnes of other people upstairs as well, and anyone of them could be the source of the commotion, my thoughts immediately went to Phil.

Without saying a word to Cat I took off running, taking the stairs two at a time. I could sense other people following behind me out of curiosity but none were as panicked as me.

When I reached the landing I discovered that Phil was indeed at the centre of all of the noise. To my horror I saw that he was slumped against a broken cabinet amid a pool a shattered glass. His left arm from wrist to elbow was smeared red with blood.

Standing over him, with a look of complete shock and horror, was Charlie.

I decided to deal with him later and ran to Phil's side, taking his face into my hands. "Phil!" I said urgently. "Phil, look at me!" He blinked up at me, taking a moment to register who I was. He was conscious at least.

I gingerly took hold of his arm. It wasn't as bad as all the blood would suggest. A few glass fragments were embedded in the skin, but I figured they shouldn't be too hard to remove. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I – I'm so sorry Phil. I didn't mean to – I didn't, I don't know what came over me." Charlie stuttered from behind me. He made to move closer to Phil but I stood up and shoved him back. I didn't even ask for context. I didn't need it. I could put two and two together.

"What the fuck?" I yelled at Charlie, taking the opportunity to shove him again, this time with more force. Charlie's face immediately turned from shock to annoyance.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it!" He said defensively.

"Oh you _accidentally_ threw Phil into a glass cabinet, is that what you're saying?" I asked sarcastically. Uncontrollable anger started bubbling to the surface. I had reached a whole new level of fury that I had never before experienced. "How does one _accidentally_ manage that?"

"It was just a little shove. I didn't mean to do it that hard." He spat at me.

And that was it. I launched at him. I full on threw myself at Charlie knocking him over with such an extreme force that I didn't even know I was capable of exerting. I pinned him to the ground and without thinking sent my fist flying into his jaw. A satisfying 'crack' sounded into the air as his jaw dislocated.

Far less satisfying was the sudden pain I felt radiating from my knuckles. I had never punched anyone before. Fucking hell, it hurt.

In my momentary distraction Charlie managed to throw me off him and stand up. He grabbed a fistful of my shirt and swung me into the nearest wall. Hard. My head collided with it painfully, which caused the entire room to start spinning and the bitter, metallic tang of blood to fill my mouth.

It all got a bit blurry from that point onwards as the fight grew more violent and more senseless. I could vaguely hear people shouting, whether they were telling us to stop or egging us on I couldn't tell.

After a particularly vicious tackle from Charlie I dizzily staggered to my feet using the wall as support when his fist made contact with my stomach once, twice, three times. I gasped as all of the air left my lungs. Black spots began obscuring my vision and my brain was banging painfully against the sides of my skull.

I fell to the floor and as a last form of defence huddled up in a ball, readying myself for another blow. Which I never felt come. Because it was at that point that I passed out.


	9. Chapter 9

I felt like crap. My head was throbbing dully and my muscles screamed in agony. I had to blink several times before my eyes even began to focus on anything around me. And even then it was all a bit blurry.

The first thing I noted was that I wasn't lying on the ground like I'd expected. Instead I was propped up on a couch with pillows. The house was eerily silent, the opposite of lively. It seemed the party was well and truly over.

A million questions began flitting around my brain causing the pressure to build up and the pain to intensify. What happened after I blacked out? How did I get to the couch? Where was Charlie? Was Phil okay?

That last one was answered almost immediately when I saw that Phil was sat beside me, his anxious eyes looking down at me. Aside from a bandage wrapped around his left forearm he seemed perfectly fine. But I asked anyway.

"Are you okay?" was the first thing out of my mouth. My voice sounded small and strained even to my own ears.

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Am I okay? Are _you_ okay?" he asked incredulously.

I tried to nod but winced. I supposed that answered the question for me. I could read the sympathy clearly painted on Phil's face and decided to change the topic. "What happened? After I – you know…" I trailed off. _Got my ass handed to me_.

He filled me in on what happened. Pretty soon after I blacked out Stephen managed to restrain Charlie, to everyone's dismay. Apparently the fight drew in quite an excited crowd of people, not that I had time to notice in the moment.

Together Stephen and Phil brought me downstairs. Apparently Charlie had stormed off but Phil was very vague on the reason why. I had a sneaky suspicion that there was more that he wasn't telling me. He also conveniently left out the biggest mystery of the night which was why Charlie shoved him in the first place.

But I didn't question him. Not just yet. I'd sensed that he wasn't really in the mood to talk about it. And besides, I didn't think my head would be able to withstand any more influx of information.

My body ached, groaning in protest at the slightest movement. I attempted to sit up properly and winced, prompting Phil to place his hands on my shoulders and gently, but firmly, push me back down again.

He didn't say anything for a while. Just looked at me, contemplating. I didn't say anything either, but only because it required too much effort to think. So instead I looked back at him.

It wasn't difficult keeping eye contact with Phil. I'd never been good at it with anyone else, but with Phil it just didn't feel awkward. I realised, with surprise, that his eyes weren't all blue. There was hints of yellow and green flaked through them. Huh. I had never noticed that before.

"You shouldn't have done that, Dan." Phil said sadly, snapping me out of my trance immediately.

Seriously? He was siding with Charlie? Was he freaking kidding me? After I got my ass kicked trying to defend him? Apparently my incredulity read plainly upon my face, as Phil hurried to clarify what he meant.

"I mean thank you for doing what you did. I've never had anyone stand up for me like that. I appreciate it, I really do." Phil insisted. "But you didn't have to do it. You didn't have to get hurt on my behalf. It was my fight, not yours."

Phil's face was only a metre away from mine and I could clearly identify the conflicting emotions that danced across it: worry, relief, anger, sadness. Ever since he opened up to me that night about his best friend I no longer saw the mask of happiness, and could easily read his emotions like a book.

"But he hurt you." I said simply, as if that explained everything. As if it explained the way I jumped into it without thinking, without knowing the full story of what happened. As if it explained the uncontrollable tidal wave of rage that had swelled up inside of me.

I had considered saying more, to elaborate on what I meant. But I never got the chance.

In seconds Phil closed the gap between us, his lips pressing softly against mine. Holy shit. Phil was kissing me. _Phil_ was kissing _me._ Although I'd like to think that the reason I didn't pull back or push him away was because I was too sore to move, I'm not sure that was true.

I'd kissed girls before and it was okay I guess. I never saw what all the hype was about but I enjoyed it enough. But _this._ This was a whole new level of pleasure that I had never before experienced.

My heart started beating faster and harder, not so much as to be painful but enough to send the adrenaline racing to every fibre of my being, to every cell in my body. Every ache and pain that I'd felt momentarily subsided. Oh my god, this was _amazing._

But it ended all too quickly. All of a sudden Phil drew back from me, slightly red faced and out of breath. Surely I wasn't alone in that experience. Tell me that wasn't just me that felt that.

While all I wanted to do in my dazed and light headed state was pull Phil in again, feel that high that the sensation of his lips against mine gave me, Phil apparently had no such plans.

"Oh my god." Phil suddenly shot up off of the couch. His hand came up to cover his mouth, his eyes widened with shock. "Oh my god. Dan, I'm so sorry. I – I don't know why I did that. I - why did I do that?"

Phil seemed to be in a state of panic. His face was flushed a deep scarlet. I wanted to say something but was too stunned to speak. Too busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that _Phil just kissed me_.

Phil shook his head slightly. "I'm so sorry." He mumbled almost incoherently before bolting out of the room.

Leaving me to sit there like an idiot wondering what the fuck just happened.


	10. Chapter 10

For the first time in my life I entertained the possibility that I could be gay. And it fucking terrified me. Never before had that even crossed my mind. But then again, never before had I been kissed by a guy.

Never before had I been kissed like _that_ , period.

And it wasn't even hot and heavy or anything. It was barely more than a peck. A brief period of connection between mine and Phil's lips. I'd done far more than that with girls I'd dated in the past but _never_ before had that been the response.

I was sat on my bed the morning after, doing nothing but replay the events of the night before in my head. I absentmindedly ran my fingers across my lips, remembering the warmth, the pressure, the _feel._

What was I supposed to do now? Ignore it? Act like it never happened? Talk about it?

 _Reciprocate it?_

No. Absolutely not. There was no way that last one was going to happen. I liked Phil. As a friend. That was it. I was almost certain of that. Almost.

But that kiss got me thinking. Was it more than that? Was this why I'd been acting so crazy and obsessive? Whenever Phil was in the room my attention was always on him. Whenever he wasn't in the room my thoughts always strayed to him. At what point did my world start revolving around Phil?

The thought terrified me and I violently pushed it back into the recesses of my mind. I'd never had a best friend before and perhaps this was just what it was like. That must be it.

I wasn't gay.

Before I could dwell on that any longer my phone started buzzing. I hadn't talked to Phil since he ran out the night before and was both excited and petrified to see that he was calling me.

I took a deep breath before answering. "Hey." I said, in what I hoped was a light and casual tone. Beneath the surface I was feeling most assuredly the opposite of light and casual. Butterflies danced around the pit of my stomach, fluttering their wings with such haste and intensity that it was unsettling.

"Hi." Phil said. It wasn't his usual upbeat greeting. It was quiet, tentative.

There was a pause. I didn't know if he was waiting for me to speak or if he was just trying to find the right words. I decided to say something.

"So-" I started to say, just as Phil said the same thing. "Sorry-" Again, both of us speaking at the same time. "You first."

Ordinarily I would have found that funny but I was too nervous to appreciate the humour.

"I'll go first." Phil said finally. He took a deep breath and said, "I'm so sorry, Dan. I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine. You don't have to apologise."

"Yes, I do." Phil insisted. "I know you're straight." It was phrased as a statement but sounded like a question. He paused, as if waiting for an answer.

I swallowed uncomfortably. "Yeah." I said quietly. Hesitantly, even. But I wasn't lying. I _was_ straight. I'd always been straight.

"Right." Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I detected a hint of sadness in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just upset and I wasn't thinking clearly." He paused before voicing what was obviously troubling him. "Please don't be mad at me."

At that I was honestly taken aback. "Be mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" I asked incredulously. "I could never be mad at you." I didn't mean to say that last part. It just slipped out. I shut my eyes and cringed at the sappiness as I waited for his response.

"It's just… It didn't mean anything I swear." Phil said. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at that but I shook my head to get rid of it quickly. "I don't want to make things awkward between us and I'm… I'm worried that I have. That I screwed everything up." He said in a small voice.

My heart melted a little bit at the sadness in his tone. I wanted to hug him. I mean not hug him. Pat him on the back. Platonically.

"Phil, it's fine." I said firmly.

"But -"

"It's _fine_. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Okay."

"Good."

And I thought that was it. We'd addressed it. We could move past it. Forget it ever happened. I sighed and flung myself back on my bed, wincing slightly as my still bruised and battered body hit the mattress.

"So how are you coping with the break up?" I asked, as it had only just occurred to me exactly how much emotional turmoil Phil must have been going through at that moment.

Phil hesitated before answering. "We, uh, haven't broken up actually."

"What?" I almost shouted. "But you're going to, right?" Phil didn't say anything in response.

"Phil!" I literally jumped up off of my bed in outrage, ignoring the screaming of my aching muscles. "After what he did?"

"I know that he hurt you and that was awful of him but – "

"No, not because of what he did to me. I hit him first, that one's on me. But what he did to _you_." I said outraged.

"But… I'm fine. My arm's pretty much healed already." Phil said, but his voice lacked any conviction whatsoever. The actual injury wasn't the issue and he knew it.

"He hurt you. He shoved you into a cabinet. That's not okay." I said with shaky breaths.

Phil paused briefly. "It, it wasn't like that. He didn't mean to do it. He was just… drunk."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My temper seemed to lay right beneath the surface these days, and it took all of my will power to keep it from overflowing. "That's not a valid excuse." No response. "What happens the next time he gets drunk? First it's just a shove but what next, Phil?"

Phil remained silent. Was I overreacting? Was I making it a bigger deal than it was? Was my distaste for Charlie clouding my ability to be objective here? I didn't think so. I tried to imagine the situation with different people. People who I didn't have any personal attachment to. And I honestly think my reaction would be the same. Perhaps a little less intense but my stance would be the same nonetheless.

I sighed. "Look, I don't want to force you to do anything. It's clearly not my place to interfere, but… I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt again. So please, I'm begging you to really think about this."

I waited with bated breath, fully expecting Phil to keep defending Charlie. "It was just nice having someone, you know?" Phil whispered in a small, defeated voice.

"You have me." I said in a feeble attempt at light-heartedness.

"That's not what I meant." He sounded, if possible, even sadder at my comment. So much for cheering him up.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall. "I know."


	11. Chapter 11

Tensions were high at lunch the next day. Phil and Charlie hadn't officially broken up yet, but Charlie had the clear sense to avoid our table anyway. He knew he wasn't welcome. Although he was sat at the other side of the room and I had my back to him I knew he was there, and that was enough to set me on edge.

I wasn't scared or embarrassed or anything like that. I was pissed. I still had some residual anger coursing through my veins, that the bruises he left on me did nothing to help calm.

PJ and Chris kept up a constant dialogue but it sounded forced to me, strained. Like their words were struggling to move through the heavy cloud of tension that hung in the air. Phil looked sad and tired, as if he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. It was painful to see.

I wasn't sure how to act around Phil. I had assumed everything would go back to normal but it hadn't. It wasn't necessarily weird or awkward between us. It was just... different. Now that the thoughts had been put in my head I couldn't for the life of me shake them.

But I tried my best anyway. Phil was still first and foremost my best friend, and that fact wasn't going to change anytime soon.

"Come to my house after school today." I said to him quietly, nudging him with my shoulder. Chris and PJ were too busy talking to take any notice.

Phil looked up at me, sad eyes questioning. "Are we having another games day?" he asked.

I glanced at Chris and PJ briefly, thinking, before turning back to Phil. "You and me are." I loved Chris and PJ, but they could be a bit much sometimes. I didn't think Phil would have the energy for that.

Phil blinked. "Not Chris and PJ?"

"Nope."

"Just us?"

"Yep."

The corners of Phil's mouth lifted in a tentative smile. "Okay." It wasn't a beaming smile but it was real, and that was something. My heart skipped a little at the sight of it but I ignored it. I pushed it down like I had everything else that I didn't want to confront over the last two days.

When last period ended Phil told me he was off to talk to Charlie first before we headed to mine. I asked if he wanted me to come, as I was hesitant to leave him alone with Charlie, but he told me that would just make it harder. I simply nodded and told him I'd wait for him outside.

We'd just entered the start of winter and it was at that stage where it was cold, but not too cold that being outside was literally the worst thing ever.

I sat myself on the railing just outside the entrance, the frozen pole cold against the back of my legs. Snowflakes drifted lazily through the air lightly dusting everything out in the open, including me.

I jumped when PJ suddenly materialised next to me, swinging his legs over the railing to join me. "Hey." He said. "Waiting for Phil?" he gave me a knowing look which I understood almost instantly. He'd heard our conversation at lunch.

I felt the guilt begin to grow inside me. "I just thought he could use a friend at the moment. But I didn't want to overwhelm him, you know?" I paused. "I'm sorry."

PJ shook his head. "It's fine. It is, really. And I think you're right. He needs space but he also needs his best friend."

I didn't say anything, just nodded. I was glad PJ wasn't upset. That he understood my reasoning, even without me having to give it. He was more observant and sensitive than a lot of people gave him credit for. That side of his personality he often kept hidden behind sarcasm and general goofiness.

PJ and I sat in comfortable silence for a bit, our legs swinging freely over the side of the railing. The cold was beginning to bite, nipping at my ears and the tip of my nose.

"It's okay, you know." PJ said quietly. He wasn't looking at me and instead was gazing off into the distance.

"What's okay?" I asked, genuinely curious. His face gave nothing away, his expression unreadable.

Still not looking at me he said, "If you like Phil."

I froze, an ominous sinking feeling growing in the pit of my stomach. I opened my mouth to speak but no words would come. PJ continued.

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way you jumped Charlie the other night..." he trailed off.

My heart began to race, thudding loudly and painfully against the confines of my rib cage. The blood was pumping furiously around my brain, fogging my thoughts. I felt as if I would literally pass out at any second.

"I'm not gay." I said to him. And to myself. I didn't know who that statement was meant to reassure.

At last PJ looked over at me with his green eyes intensely studying my face. Searching my expression for something, anything.

"Dan, you don't have to -"

"I'm _not_." I blurted out, cutting him off mid sentence. I could hear the hostility in my voice and recognised how overly defensive I was getting but I couldn't help it.

I knew exactly why I was being so defensive. It was because I wasn't entirely sure that I was telling the truth. And that scared me. It scared me having believed one thing for my entire life only to then be plunged into complete uncertainty.

"Okay." PJ said, not entirely convinced. His skepticism was clear but he didn't question it. "But just if you were. If you're straight, gay, bi, whatever. I'm telling you that it's okay. And that I'm going to be here to support you no matter what."

I said nothing in response. What would I say anyway? How do I respond to that? Do I say thanks?

But I didn't want to say thanks. Although his words were nothing but kind I felt embarrassed and uncomfortable.

My heart was still drumming painfully, I could feel it beating at the base of my throat. I couldn't look at PJ. I couldn't meet his eyes.

I should have been grateful to have such a supportive and caring friend but a part of me hated PJ for saying that. For putting me on the spot and bringing up what I'd been trying so hard to ignore

PJ sighed almost inaudibly. He recognised that I wasn't going to say anything. He hopped down from the railing and brushed the snow off of his coat. He made to leave but before he did so, his eyes met mine.

"Just be you, Dan." And with that he turned and walked away.

 _Just be me_. How was I supposed to do that when I had no fucking clue who that was anymore?


	12. Chapter 12

PJ's words kept echoing in my head, stuck in my brain like the tune of a catchy song. And try as hard as I might I couldn't get rid of it.

"Why are you staring at me?" Phil asked out of nowhere, snapping me out of my trance.

"I wasn't!" I defended. I was. He was in the middle of playing Sonic so I figured he wouldn't notice. Clearly I was wrong. I looked away embarrassed and focused on the screen instead.

"Yes, you were. I have terrific peripheral vision, you know." He said. "I'm like... a dragonfly." I snorted in amusement but didn't say anything.

"If you're worried about me, don't be. I'm fine." His gaze flickered over to me for a brief second and he smiled in assurance. It was convincing and anyone else would have bought it, but not me. I knew him too well and could spot his fake smiles from a mile away.

However, I was grateful that he brought that up. It wasn't the reason why I was staring but it was a whole lot less embarrassing than ' _because you're nice to look at'._

"It's my job to worry about you." I said, glad for the excuse. "And I know you're not fine." Phil opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me, Phillip. I'll see right through it." I warned. He closed his mouth, shoulders sagging a little in defeat.

"Forget about Charlie. He's a twat." I continued on. Unlike Phil, I was incredibly thrilled with the break up. I could unload all of my negative opinions of Charlie and not feel guilty for being an unsupportive friend.

"You deserve someone better." Phil glanced over at me again for longer than a second this time, consequently dying in the game. He didn't seem to care however, or even notice. There was a moment when neither of us said anything, just held each other's gaze. I shifted self-consciously in my seat. "What?" I asked. Was I being too blunt? Insensitive? Perhaps I should've kept my thoughts to myself until the wound was a little less fresh.

He shook his head slightly causing his fringe to fall into his eyes. A small part of my brain urged me to fix it for him but the rest of my brain shot down that bizarre idea immediately. "Nothing." he said. He held the controller out to me saying "Your turn," but I pushed it back towards him.

"No. That was a pitiful attempt. Go again." Phil rolled his eyes and suppressed a small smile before restarting the level. This time around I made the conscious effort to keep my eyes on the screen rather than on Phil, only turning to look at him when making a comment about his gameplay. It wasn't as interesting when Phil was actually playing the game well. I couldn't mock him.

After a short period of rapidly increasing boredom I spoke up. "I'm hungry." I complained to Phil.

"You're always hungry." He said dismissively, not even sparing me a glance. He was in the zone.

"Let's make something." I said, watching him and waiting for his response.

Phil raised his eyebrows, but still kept his eyes on the screen. "You know how to cook?" He asked.

"I know how to read. And I know where I can find a cook book."

"So... no?" he said, amused.

"Shut up!" I chuckled, shoving him playfully and causing him to almost lose the level. He yelped as he frantically tried to regain control.

"Dan! Don't do that!" he said indignantly, but he was laughing. I shoved him again. "Stop!" I grabbed his arm and started shaking him back and forth. "Daaaaan!" he whined in protest, but I was having far too much fun messing with him. I covered his eyes with my hand and he tried to squirm away from me so he could still see the screen. But I wasn't going to let that happen.

"I hate you." he mumbled when his character inevitably died. He was lying sideways on the couch from his effort to evade me and I was leant over him. He pouted up at me and I grinned triumphantly back.

"Lies." I said.

I didn't move from where I was and I didn't break eye contact with Phil. We just stayed like that for a while before Phil cleared his throat. "So... cooking?" he said awkwardly.

"Right." I said, getting to my feet and allowing Phil to sit back up. My face felt hot and I knew it was flushed a deep scarlet. Why did that keep happening to me?

After browsing through my mum's collection of cookbooks I pulled out one by Delia Smith and opened to a page at random. Pancakes.

Phil raided my cupboard and fridge collecting ingredients, as casually as if it were his own kitchen, while I set up my video camera. I'd taken to posting quite regularly on my YouTube channel, and not just school work. I'd post silly things like gaming videos and skits and storytelling. And now baking videos I supposed. The quality wasn't that great but I wasn't making them to impress anybody.

I'd discovered that I liked making videos. I liked filming them and editing them. I liked reading the comments that people would leave on my channel and watching the small following I had gathered slowly increase in size.

I wished more than anything that I could turn making videos into a viable career option. It was the first time in my life that I'd found something that interested me, and to be able to do it as living would just be a dream come true.

Phil often featured in my videos but he didn't seem to mind. I'd taken up his advice to simply do what made me happy, and making videos was what made me happy. In all honesty I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life. My YouTube channel was growing, graduation was only a few months away, my haircut was actually decent for once, the new Muse album had just been released.

And I had a Phil Lester in my life.

Despite that last one also being a source of great confusion and inexplicable and undesirable feelings, it was without a doubt the biggest contributor to my happiness.


	13. Chapter 13

There was one period left of school, and the day had passed without any drama. We hadn't run into Charlie, which I was incredibly grateful for. I was enjoying the long awaited return to normalcy. However it didn't last long.

Chris, PJ, Phil, and I were milling about by the lockers, chatting mindlessly to pass the time between classes. I was about to make a remark when out of nowhere Charlie walked passed us, ramming his shoulder into my side as he did so.

I was sent staggering into Phil, who instinctively grabbed my arm to stop me from falling and helped me regain my balance. Charlie continued walking as if nothing had happened, not even glancing in my direction. I was annoyed to say the least, but I didn't react. I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction.

Chris, however, did react. "Dude, what the hell?" he called after Charlie, who paused briefly but didn't turn back around. The hallway fell silent as everyone turned around to see what all the commotion was. "Mate, I'm talking to you!" he shouted again, lunging forward to grab Charlie by the shoulder and forcefully swing him around.

"Hey, hey, hey. Let's not do this." PJ said, hastily pulling Chris back after glimpsing the murderous expression on Charlie's face. "Let's keep it civil."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Relax. I have no problem with you guys." Charlie sneered. "Just _him_." he said, glaring and nodding his head at me. And I glared right back.

"Oh, this is ridiculous." Chris said, disgusted. "It was one fight, for fuck's sake. Don't get so hung up on it."

"I don't care about _that_. It's his general existence that bothers me." Was he fucking kidding me? Aside from the fight (which he won, might I add, so he really had no valid reason to be bitter about it), what the hell did I do to piss him off so much? Why did his subtle distaste for me suddenly morph into full blown hatred?

"What the fuck is your problem?" I snarled at Charlie, finally speaking up and allowing some of my anger to vent. I was honestly just fed up with the whole thing.

Charlie shook his head, an ominous smirk on his face. Like he knew something I didn't. "Maybe we should just leave it. You don't want me saying what I want to say to you right now in public."

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "I literally have no idea what you're talking about." Which was the truth.

At this point PJ, ever the peace maker, decided to intervene once again. "Don't say any private stuff in public, man." He said, holding a placating hand out to keep Charlie at bay. "Wrap it up or take it somewhere else."

I was beginning to feel like I was missing something. "No. Say it. I want to know what you're talking about." I had nothing to hide. He had no dirt on me.

Charlie's eyes flicked maliciously from me over to Phil, who stood frozen, anxiously observing the exchange before him. "Why don't you ask Phil. You guys seem particularly… _close_ , these days."

I froze. "I don't know what you mean." Of course this time I was lying. I knew exactly what he meant. I had finally clued in to what he was talking about. I briefed a glance over to Phil who had paled significantly. He didn't meet my eyes and instead was looking at Charlie.

"Charlie," he began, his tone an odd mix of pleading and warning.

Charlie ignored him, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. He placed a condescending hand on my shoulder which I was too stunned to shake off. "I get it. I really do. Coming to terms with your sexuality can be a scary thing." He said in mock concern before laughing and walking off, only briefly stopping to turn around and blow a kiss in mine and Phil's direction.

I stood there in silence not knowing what to say or what to do. My brain completely shut off. I glanced around and saw everyone in the hall was staring at me.

"What the fuck," Chris began, "was that all about?" He was looking between me and Phil with confusion. PJ looked to be in a state of shock under laced with sympathy. And Phil... Phil just looked like he wanted to throw up.

Without saying a word I took off running. I didn't know what else to do. I just knew that I didn't want to be there, with the suffocating silence and the piercing stares. So I just ran. And I kept running until I reached the front doors of the school. It was only when I made it outside that I allowed myself to truly freak out.

And by freak out I mean actually _freak out_. Like, full on panic attack. My chest felt constricted, squeezed by some unseen force to the point where I couldn't breathe. I was uncontrollably shaking from head to toe and I didn't think the cold had anything to do with it.

Objectively, it wasn't that big a deal. Subjectively, it was the end of the world. I wasn't gay. And I didn't want people thinking I was gay. Although I knew, _I knew_ , that everyone that was important in my life honestly wouldn't care if I was, the thought of it still terrified me. _Terrified_ me. Why? I don't know. I have absolutely no clue.

I looked up to see Phil standing a few metres away from me, having followed me out. He was waiting cautiously, as if I were some sort of wild animal that he didn't want to spook.

"What did you say to him?" I spat at Phil, with more venom than was necessary. Perhaps I was a wild animal. And I was ready to attack.

Phil flinched at the ferocity of my words. "Nothing, I didn't say anything I swear."

"Nothing? How the hell did he know about the kiss, Phil? How?" I shouted at him, almost choking on the rising hysteria.

"I don't know! Maybe he saw, or he heard it from someone else who saw. But I swear, I didn't tell anyone!" Phil said, begging me to believe him.

And I did. I wanted to unload all of my pent up rage and embarrassment and frustration onto him but I couldn't. Just one look at those eyes and my emotions immediately subsided, leaving me to feel empty and hollow instead. Which was just as painful, if not more.

I groaned and collapsed to the snow covered ground, leaning against the wall for support. I ran my hands over my face and pressed my palms into my closed eyes as if by doing so I could erase the memory of the last few minutes from my brain. "I know." I said quietly.

"This is all my fault, Dan. I'm so sorry." Phil placed a comforting hand on my shoulder but I flinched away at his touch.

He dropped his outstretched hand to his side and stood there with a mixture of sadness and hurt on his face. "I messed everything up, didn't I?" he asked softly. His tone indicated that he wasn't waiting for an answer. He already believed it to be true.

I didn't say anything.


	14. Chapter 14

It was the next morning and I really did not fancy going to school. I went about my usual morning routine at a much slower pace than usual in an attempt to delay the moment when I'd have to walk through those doors again.

I hadn't bothered going to my last class yesterday. I wasn't usually one to wag school but I was in no fit state to stay. I _still_ didn't think I was in any fit state. Although I had calmed down considerably since my meltdown I still felt emotionally unprepared to face the day.

I had no idea what I'd do if I ran into Charlie again. Would I ignore him? Yell at him? Break down crying? Completely freeze? I don't know, I honestly don't. I was that much of an emotional wreck that I could no longer predict my actions. I could no longer trust myself to stay calm and collected, and to rely on reason and rationality.

I was broken, and I didn't know how to fix it.

I kept scolding myself mentally for over-reacting. I was able to look at the situation as if I were an outsider and recognise that what happened was not that big a deal. I knew that. But it affected me. And I hated myself for how much it affected me. I _loathed_ how pathetic and scared and paranoid I was.

Despite my extensive dawdling I somehow managed to make it to school on time anyway. Great. At first I was genuinely surprised at how _normal_ everything seemed. I didn't exactly know what I was expecting but it wasn't this. I wasn't expecting for literally nothing to have changed, but that seemed to be the case. It would appear that I had widely overestimated the backlash of yesterday's events.

I was just starting to relax a little bit and let the tension drain out of my shoulders when it happened. "Fag." someone spat, bumping into me as they walked pass. I quickly turned around to see who had done it, terrified that it was Charlie, but it wasn't. I didn't know who he was actually. I didn't recognise him at all. I stood frozen, my heart pumping ice through my veins.

It was even worse that it wasn't Charlie. It meant that word had spread. This person probably had no idea who I was before yesterday. He knew literally nothing else about me besides the fact that I was a supposed 'fag.'

I took a deep breath and focused all of my attention of placing one foot in front of the other. _Calm down. Don't freak out again._

It was as if I were a pane of glass, already riddled with cracks. I was trying desperately to hold myself together but I knew that with the slightest provocation I'd shatter.

I kept my head down as I walked to my locker, avoiding the gaze of the people around me. I didn't know if they actually were looking at me, but the rising paranoia within me convinced me that they were.

It was only as I was about to put in my combination that I actually looked up. There, carelessly drawn in black permanent marker and taking up the entirety of my locker, was a dick.

Now every school, every sidewalk, every conceivable site prone to graffiti was littered with dick drawings. Because for whatever reason, that's what teenagers found amusing. But this wasn't a random scribble out of boredom. This was put here on purpose. I knew it. The person that put it there knew it. And I'm willing to bet everyone else in the school knew it too. It didn't need much clarification for people to get what it was in reference to.

I heard snickering from a group of people to my right. When I looked over at them they immediately stopped, or attempted to at least. Some of them failed to wipe the smirks off of their faces and others attempted to stifle giggles behind their hands.

"Just ignore it. People are idiots." I jumped at the sound of Phil's voice. He was stood beside me looking at my locker with a small frown on his face.

I hastily opened it, stuffed my books away and slammed it shut, this time making Phil jump (and everyone else in the near vicinity).

"Dan-" he began, but I didn't hear the end of it. I had already stalked off. Or tried to stalk off. Some smart ass thought he'd stick his foot out and try to trip me up. I didn't fall but I did stumble, causing a few people to snicker and my face to heat up.

That's pretty much how the rest of my day went. How the rest of my _week_ went in fact. It wasn't anything extreme. I wasn't beaten to a pulp, or tossed in rubbish bins. No, my torturers were more subtle, more passive aggressive, but they were relentless nonetheless. I was called names. I was shoved in hallways. I had paper thrown at me in classes. I was stared at, whispered about, snickered at.

It got to me, it really did. Though little, every word and every action chipped and sliced and carved away at me, gradually tearing down my confidence, my sanity, my happiness.

Why was this happening to me? Why was I being the only one attacked? Was it not common knowledge that Phil and Charlie actually dated? Where was the backlash of that? Why weren't either of _them_ getting called fag by strangers and tripped in hallways? Or maybe they were and I just never noticed. No, Phil would have told me if that was happening to him. I was sure of it.

Perhaps it was simply that Phil was too kind, too friendly, too much of a ray of sunshine for anyone to even consider picking on. It'd be the equivalent of kicking a puppy. And Charlie was too intimidating. Even more so after completely annihilating me at that party.

But they had no reason to leave me alone. I was a perfect punching bag that Charlie had painted a massive red target on.

It was easier when no one knew who I was, when I coasted along the sidelines. Never popular, never hated, just generally never noticed. And that was fine by me. It was ideal, even. But now I'd been thrust into the lime light and not in a good way.

I was the guy that lost a fight at a party that one time. I was the guy that got outed as gay in the middle of the lunch room. I was the guy that was too awkward and too socially inept to have more than three friends. These had become my defining characteristics.


	15. Chapter 15

The mood had definitely shifted within our group, and I was entirely certain that I was to blame. I could have laughed it all off or confided my emotions in them, leaned on them for support even. But no. I became cold and distant and generally unpleasant to be around.

PJ and Chris stopped making jokes about me and Phil being a couple. No more talk of shipping and weddings and how 'cute' we were together. All of that stopped after my confrontation with Charlie. They knew how much Charlie's words got to me. Knew that he'd hit a nerve. Chris did once offhandedly refer to me as 'No Homo Howell' but you could tell he instantly regretted it. PJ had glared daggers at him, Phil had laughed nervously, and I'd stormed off. He never called me that again.

I was miserable, and it sucked. It sucked because I was so unbelievably happy before all of this began. So content with my life. But then the ground had crumbled beneath my very feet and I was plunged into an abyss of negativity.

The real kicker was that I was largely to blame for my emotional state. I could no longer muster any anger towards Charlie. I knew why he hated me now. I was the guy that his boyfriend cheated on him with. I'd be pissed too.

And I couldn't be angry at Phil. He had apologised to me repeatedly. And he was trying so hard to support me as well. Phil Lester, the literal ray of sunshine, snapped at people when they shoved me. Scolded them when they called me names. Some people were so shocked at seeing this new side of Phil, felt so guilty at being called out on their behaviour by literally the nicest person in the world, that they proffusely apologised to me and never bothered me again. Others mocked me even more for needing my 'boyfriend' to swoop in and save me.

No, more than anything I was angry at myself. My level of self hatred ran so deep that it was frightening. It led me down corridors so dark and so depressing that it actually scared me to be left alone with my own thoughts.

I hadn't had time to work out my feelings toward Phil before my life turned to shit. And after seeing the retributions of being labeled gay, I didn't dare think about it. I wasn't brave enough. I buried those emotions deep within my mind and refused to go near them. Fucking coward.

I was disgusted with how weak I was. With how badly I was handling everything. I hated that I was pushing away my friends. I hated that they felt the need to walk on eggshells around me. I hated that I instantly brought down the mood whenever I walked into the room.

Largely I hated that I could no longer be myself around Phil. I was now consciously aware of everything that I said or did, scared of giving anyone the wrong idea and adding fuel to the fire. I made sure that my body language wasn't at all suggestive or overly friendly. I avoided making eye contact with Phil at all costs. I made sure to keep a safe distance between the two of us, even going so far as to sit next to Chris at lunchtimes and offer up my seat on the couch to PJ at games days.

Everyone was well aware of the changes I had made but they didn't say anything. They just went along with it. Phil, too, even though the level of hurt he felt read plainly across his face. This always sent waves of guilt crashing over me, dragging me back down into the depths of self-hatred.

I paced my room as I played with my phone, turning it over and over again in my hands. Was I really about to do this? Was this wise? Probably not. Definitely not. But I wasn't in the right frame of mind to give a damn anymore.

I pressed call and held my phone up to my ear, listening to the ringing and waiting for her to pick up. "Hello?" Cat said. She sounded sleepy. I glanced at the clock in my room and only then registered that it was 12:23 am. _Way to go, asshole._

"Cat, it's Dan. Sorry for waking you." I said.

"Dan! Hey, what's up?" She sounded confused, but not necessarily in a bad way. More of a ' _I don't know what you're doing ringing me at midnight but I'm not going to complain'_ kind of way.

"Do you maybe want to go out with me sometime?" The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. For a moment they just hung there in the air, taunting me. Daring me to take them back even though they knew that I couldn't.

Cat eventually broke the silence. "Um sure. I – I'd love to." She didn't sound like she'd love to. She sounded more confused than anything.

"I'm a little surprised though, Dan. I kind of got the vibe that you weren't really interested..." She trailed off, unsure of herself. I didn't know if she was refering to the party in particular or if she was hinting at something else. You know, like the fact that the whole school thought I was gay and my apparent disinterest wasn't directed toward her specifically but rather toward her entire gender.

"No!" I almost shouted at her, kind of scaring myself and evidently Cat, who yelped slightly at the urgency of my tone. "No, I was interested. I _am_ interested. Really." I confirmed to her, putting as much sincerity into my voice as I could muster.

Cat paused, obviously trying to decide whether or not I was being genuine. "Okay then." she said, still a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice, "What's say we go catch a movie or something. Tomorrow night?"

"Yes. Sounds good." I said enthusiastically. "Very good."

Cat laughed. "All right, well, it's a date. Now get some sleep, you crazy." She joked, before hanging up on me. I threw my phone, letting it fall safely onto my bed and sighed. What was I doing?

I had no intention of ever calling Cat when she gave me her number. She was nice enough but there was nothing really there between us. But with everything going on I'd somehow fooled myself into thinking that this was a reasonable solution to my problems.

There was absolutely nothing reasonable about this decision.


	16. Chapter 16

"How'd you like the movie?" I asked Cat as we slowly made our way toward her house. It was a small town that we lived in, so everything was within walking distance. We'd already passed my house but, being a gentleman, I insisted on escorting her home. Which I kind of regretted due to the fact that I was now freezing my tits off.

"It was..." she paused, struggling to find the words.

"Shit?" I supplied, helpfully.

"Oh my God, so shit!" she laughed, relieved that she didn't have to be polite and pretend to like the movie.

"The ending, gee talk about anticlimactic." I said, rolling my eyes.

"And the acting! Worst acting ever!" she added. I nodded in agreement. I liked Cat. The problem was that I didn't _like_ like Cat. And as juvenile as that phrase was, it was incredibly accurate at describing how I was feeling. I liked spending time with her. She was fun to be around and easy to talk to. I could see us actually being friends. _Friends_. That was it. I didn't want more than that from her. I wanted to want more, believe me, but I just... didn't.

We continued back and forth for a while, criticising every last aspect of the film. Before no time at all we were standing outside her front door.

"I had a really great time tonight." She said, looking up at me, grinning. I raised my eyebrows in response. "Aside from the actual film. That part sucked." she clarified, with a breathy laugh. I agreed. Despite the truly awful movie the date itself wasn't half bad.

I didn't know what to do next. I knew what I _should_ do. I should tell her that I had fun too and suggest we do it again sometime. I should lean in to kiss her and then tell her that I'd ring her tomorrow. It was what you should do at the end of a good date. But it wasn't necessarily what I _wanted_ to do.

I didn't have much time to ponder my next move as Cat decided to take matters into her own hands. She reached up on her tip toes and leaned in to press her lips against mine. Her gloved hand came up to rest gently on the side of my cheek as she did so. Her lips were cold and mine were chapped, both effects of the chilly night air, so it wasn't that pleasant to start off.

But I responded anyway. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer and delving deeper into the kiss. It was actually quite nice.

 _But it's not amazing._ A small voice said in the back of my head.

It never is the first time.

 _It was with Phil_.

I silenced the voice immediately. These kind of thoughts were like wildfire: damaging and destructive. If not extinguished quickly they continued to feed and grow on their own, eventually overpowering every other thought and becoming increasingly difficult to contain. I tried to focus on Cat instead.

After a few moments she pulled back and smiled. I tried to smile back but it felt forced. Fake. "I'll uh, call you tomorrow?" I said, just out of politeness, but now that the promise was voiced there was no turning back.

"You'd better." she said, giving me one last peck on the cheek before heading inside and closing the door.

I felt like shit. Cat was exactly the kind of girl that, in theory, I should have been attracted to. And the fact that I wasn't, that I didn't feel anything romantic toward her whatsoever, was not a good sign at all.

As I neared my house the last thing I was expecting on a night as blistery as this was to see someone standing outside of it.

"Phil?" I said in surprise, just before he had the chance to knock on my door.

He jumped at the sound of my voice. "Jesus, Dan! You scared the living daylights out of me!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked, walking up the steps to meet him.

He shrugged bashfully. "I came to talk to you."

"Why didn't you just call? It's fucking freezing out here."

Phil smiled. "I had noticed that, thank you." he chuckled. "No, I had something in particular that I wanted to... wait, what are _you_ doing outside?"

I paused. I didn't really want to tell Phil where I'd been. But my imagination failed me and I was unable to conjure up a reasonable lie. "I was on a date." I said reluctantly.

Phil seemed to be at a loss of what to say. After a brief period of awkward silence he cleared his throat and asked, "with who?"

"...Cat." I didn't elaborate. One, because I assumed Phil already knew who she was. Because Phil knew who everybody was. And two, I realised I didn't actually know Cat's last name.

"Oh." Phil looked down at his shoes. "How was it?"

"It was... good." What else was I to say? It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. It was... fine. And a little bit disappointing.

I didn't know how I was expecting Phil to react. I didn't know how I wanted him to react. But it wasn't like this. "Well I'm glad that you're happy. I hope it works out." he said quietly, offering me a small smile.

Fucking Phil and his fucking supportive attitude. I felt an immense wave of guilt wash over me. I was anything _but_ supportive about his relationship with Charlie. Way to make me feel like an even bigger douche bag than before. And why was he being so nice to me in the first place? I'd been nothing but rude to him the last few weeks. Why wasn't he telling me to suck it up, stop moping about, and deal with my problems like a normal person?

But perhaps that was why he came to talk to me. Perhaps he came to confront me about my behaviour. The thought filled me with dread.

I realised we were both still standing outside my door, slowly freezing to death. "Did - did you want to come in?" I asked. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to let him in. Out of fear that he was actually here to lecture me. I didn't think I'd be able to handle that.

"No, it's okay." he said quietly, already beginning to make his way back down the steps.

My anxiety left me immediately and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Didn't you want to talk to me about something?"

Phil shook his head slightly, not meeting my eyes. "No, it's fine. It's not that important."

"But... you came all this way -"

"It doesn't matter." Phil said, cutting me off. Not in an aggressive way. More in a tired way. And now that I was allowing myself to look at him properly for the first time in weeks, I noticed that he did look quite tired. There were noticeable bags under his eyes that weren't there before. And his eyes themselves didn't seem to sparkle like they normally did. He looked drained.

"Goodnight, Dan. I'll see you tomorrow." I wanted to stop him. To reach out, grab his arm, and not let him leave until he told me what was on his mind. But he left too quickly. He wrapped his coat around him more closely and with his head down and shoulders hunched, he hurried off into the night.


	17. Chapter 17

Cat and I were officially dating. On the one hand, it kind of had the effect that I'd hope it would. Once word got out that we were together the teasing died down considerably. But I was also hoping that I'd be able to prove to myself that I was straight. And that part wasn't going as planned. The results were inconclusive on that one.

I still hadn't entirely mended the fence with my friends either. I didn't know how. How to make it all go back to normal. I was starting to worry that the damage was permanent. Irreparable.

I couldn't think straight. Everything was such a mess and I didn't know how to cope with it all. I needed someone to tell me what to do and what to say. I needed them to reach inside my mind and make it all clear, and organised, and straightforward.

Phil never did tell me why he came to my house that night. And because we weren't on the best of terms I never asked him either. But the question ate away at me. It must have been important if he didn't want to tell me over the phone. But then again, it mustn't have been important, because he never ended up telling me anyway. I was so confused.

Going to a party was certainly not going to set my head straight. But that's where I was. The house was uncomfortably crowded and the music unbearably loud. How people found this kind of atmosphere enjoyable was beyond me. However, the answer was immediately made clear when Cat returned from wherever she disappeared to and pressed a drink into my hand. Ah, alcohol. Of course. That's what made people enjoy it.

The prospect of dulling the tiresome thoughts that constantly bugged me was far too appealing to pass up, so I drank it without question. But despite how desperately I wanted to escape I had no plans of getting completely drunk that night. That was not a vice that I wanted to become dependent on, no matter how fucked up everything was.

Cat evidently didn't share the same philosophy and within the next half hour she was already tipsy. "Dance with me!" she yelled, trying to make herself heard over the music. I shook my head but she tugged at my hand anyway and led me deeper into the room.

It was chaotic and sweaty and a massive invasion of personal space. I wasn't exactly dancing. More so standing there and allowing Cat to run her hands over me and grind up against me. Only minutes in her lips found her way to my neck and I shivered. Not in a bad way. In a way that sent tingles down my spine and goosebumps over my skin.

Fuck it. I laced my hands through her hair and directed her mouth to my own. The kiss didn't start out slow and gentle at all, but rather it was wild and full of hunger from the very start. I urgently wanted to _feel_ something for Cat. Anything. So when she suggested we take it upstairs my hesitation only lasted for a split second.

Cat led me into an empty room, pulling me along behind her. I shut the door after me, locking it as I did so, and had barely turned back around when Cat launched herself at me, pinning me up against it. The force of it winded me but I didn't care. I was beyond caring at this point.

She grabbed the hem of my shirt and violently ripped it up over my head before her lips crashed into mine again. Her hands trailed down my torso making me shiver while my own hands slid down to her thighs. I gripped her legs tightly and hoisted her up so that she straddled my waist as I carried her over to the bed.

Unceremoniously I threw her down onto her back before climbing on top of her, leaning down to meet her lips once again. It was urgent and wild and sloppy. The very concept of restraint flew out the window entirely. We were both completely out of breath and panting for air but it didn't slow us down one bit. There was a complete overpowering of thought and rationality until it was all just an animalistic blur of hands and skin and mouths and moans.

My mind went completely blank as I let instinct take the reigns. She moaned loudly as I moved away from her mouth to kiss her neck.

" _Phil_." I murmured.

It was barely a whisper and was muffled by her hair so I doubt she heard me. But I knew what I had said.

I froze, my entire body tensing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Why'd you stop?" she asked breathlessly. I shot up off of the bed, my breathing ragged and intense. I anxiously ran my hand through my hair internally freaking out. _Why did I say that?_

"Dan?" Cat asked, propping herself up on her elbows. She looked confused. "Are you okay?"

"I – I have to go. I'm so sorry. I – sorry." I mumbled hastily, throwing my shirt back on, scooping up my belongings and fumbling with the look on the door.

With one last apology I bolted through it. On my way back through the living room I spotted the table lined with drinks and never before had alcohol looked so inviting as it did in that exact moment. To hell with it. I grabbed a cup and downed it in one go. Then another. And another. But it wasn't working. The effect wasn't immediate enough. I needed to stop feeling _now_.

Frustrated, I tore my way through the crowd, out through the door and into the night. And I ran. The cold night air ripped at my lungs and shredded my insides but I relished in the pain.

I didn't make it far before my legs were too wobbly to walk on and I collapsed against a wall. Fuck. It was an understatement to say that I was rattled. I was shaken down to my core.

My stomach was knotted making me queasy. I tried to steady my breathing but it wasn't working. Nothing was working. My legs had given up, my brain was malfunctioning. I was broken.

I kept replaying it over and over again. _Phil_. _Phil_. _Phil._

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my shaking arms around me as tightly as possible. And I cried. I cried great, heaving sobs that wracked my entire frame.

I couldn't exactly pinpoint why I was crying. I was just overwhelmed with everything. I was shocked and terrified and confused and embarrassed. And a whole other jumble of emotions that were too tangled for me to sort through.

It was never this complicated. I never used to _feel_ like this. Most of my life I'd only felt what I now realised were muted versions of emotions. Toned down, desaturated versions of the real things. But when Phil entered my life all of a sudden they came at me with full force, in all their intensity and rawness.

At first they were good feelings. I experienced happiness and joy to a degree that I'd never felt before. But every other emotion soon came to follow. I had felt anger so intense it burned like fire in my veins. I had felt sadness so crippling it hollowed my bones. I had felt jealousy so consuming that it twisted my stomach to no end. To feel to such an extreme was completely new to me.

I didn't remember getting back to my feet. And I didn't know how I managed it, or why my feet took me there of all places, but I soon found myself in front of Phil's house. And before I could stop myself I knocked on the door.


	18. Chapter 18

"Dan?" Phil said in surprise upon opening the door. "What are you – are you okay?" His eyes widened when he took in my appearance. I hadn't seen myself but I had a rough idea of how I looked. Red rimmed, puffy eyes. Tussled hair. Dishevelled clothing. Was I forgetting anything?

"I –" I opened my mouth to speak, but I choked on the words and started crying instead. Fabulous.

Phil didn't even say anything. He immediately wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug. Didn't question me, didn't stand there in confusion, didn't tell me to go away which he really should have based on the way I treated him. No, his automatic response was to just hold me.

This world didn't deserve someone as good as Phil Lester.

I rested my head in the crook of his neck and wrapped my arms around him in return, fists clinging desperately to the back of his shirt. I breathed in the scent of him, of coconut and wood fire, and relished in the warmth that radiated off of him, easing the chill that had settled into my bones. He was perfect. And it just made me cry even harder. _That was the problem_.

Eventually I calmed down and he led me to his room, never letting go of my hand. We sat at the foot of his bed, my head against his chest and his arms wrapped around me. I allowed my heavy eyelids to droop, lulled into a sense of complete comfort by the steady beating of Phil's heart.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" I didn't answer. I didn't know how. So Phil ventured a guess instead. "Is it Cat?" My stomach tightened at the thought of her. She wasn't the issue, but it was related, so I nodded against him.

"Are you two… broken up?" If we weren't already we surely would be the next time we saw each other. She would be mad at how I ran out on her. And me… I needed to sort my shit out.

"Probably." I whispered lifelessly. Phil waited for me to elaborate, but I didn't. I was tired of talking, of thinking, of feeling. I just wanted to fall asleep right there and then, wrapped in Phil's arms, and forget about everything. Was that too much to ask?

"Okay." He said finally, breaking the silence. "How about I tell you what happened with Charlie and then you tell me what happened with Cat?" Phil said.

"I already know what happened with Charlie. The douche bag threw you into a cabinet." I mumbled into him. Phil chuckled lightly, and I could feel the sound reverberate throughout his chest. It felt nice.

"But _why_ he pushed me. Why I deserved it." Phil said quietly.

I frowned. "Why would you say that? Don't think like that, Phil."

"I wasn't a very good boyfriend." He continued, ignoring me. I huffed disbelievingly. As if Phil wouldn't be the best boyfriend in the world.

"I didn't pay him enough attention. The amount a boyfriend would normally deserve." Phil paused and then took a shaky breath before saying, "Because I was paying too much attention to you instead."

My eyes flew open and I drew away from him, sitting upright. What was he saying?

Phil kept going, keeping his gaze averted from mine. "Charlie asked me if I had feelings for you. I told him you were just a friend, but he didn't believe me. He, uh, had a few drinks, and started accusing me of cheating on him.

"...He said I didn't look at you the way that people who were just friends looked at each other. I kept denying it but he just got more hysterical. And then…" he trailed off. I already knew what happened next.

My eyes never left his lips as he spoke. I was mesmerised by them. By the shapes they formed and the words that came out of them. "I…" my voice broke as I attempted to speak so I cleared my throat and tried again. "I still don't see why you think you deserved it."

Phil took a deep breath before answering, his eyes finally meeting mine. "Because he was right. I don't look at you the way I look at a friend."

Was he saying what I think he was saying? I couldn't be sure. I could feel the effects of the alcohol taking place, warping my perception of reality. To be honest, I wasn't entirely certain that Phil was actually there, and not just some figment of my imagination.

But if he was saying what I thought he was saying…

"Phil, I – " I started to say, but quickly stopped myself. No. The back of my throat started burning and for the third time that night I could feel tears forming in my eyes. God, I was such a wreck.

Phil looked slightly alarmed at my reaction. "What's wrong?" his hand subconsciously rubbed comforting circles across my back and I shivered involuntarily. "Dan. You can tell me anything. Please."

I shook my head, blinking back tears. _Not this_. Usually, yes, but I couldn't confess this. Because telling this to anyone, let alone Phil, meant confessing this to myself. And I just couldn't do that. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to have to confront the fact that I could be gay and in love with my best friend.

But I couldn't do nothing. Not when all I could think about all day everyday was Phil. Not when my heart skips a beat when his eyes make contact with mine. Not when all I wanted to do was talk with him, laugh with him, do _other_ things with him. All I thought and felt and saw was Phil and it was driving me insane.

The realisation of how much I had missed Phil this past month hit me like a train. I wanted him. I _needed_ him.

And in my intoxicated state I didn't think twice before leaning in and kissing him.

At first Phil didn't respond, seemingly frozen in shock. But then his hand came up to cup my cheek. _He was kissing back_. And it was a thousand times better than before.

I became putty under his touch and virtually melted into him. My already alcohol hazed brain seemed to switch off, allowing longing to solely guide my actions. It was different than with Cat. This was slow and deep and tantalisingly good _._ This was _bliss_. Pure unadulterated bliss.

I clutched the front of Phil's shirt and fell back against the bed, pulling him down with me. My hands entangled themselves in his hair, gently tugging at it and causing a faint moan to escape Phil's lips. That sound. That one glorious sound turned me on so indescribably much.

Every cell in my body was tingling with excitement and I could feel something stirring inside of me. This overwhelming and all powerful whirlwind of desire. A lustful hunger that completely consumed me, demanding more.

One of my hands left his hair and grazed across his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, and made its way to the waist band of his jeans where it undid the top button. Phil suddenly tensed and drew back from the kiss. "What are you doing?" he asked me, slightly out of breath. His fringe was pushed back and his cheeks were flushed and holy fuck, he was hot. How had I never registered that before?

My eyes struggled to focus on his as I attempted to string together some words to form a coherent sentence. "Making out." I slurred, reaching up to grab hold of Phil again. Only he wouldn't let me. He unfisted my hands from his shirt and placed them at my sides.

"You're drunk." He said sadly, though the lust in his eyes was still undeniably present.

"So?" I pouted. My body ached at the distance between us. I wanted so desperately to hold him, touch him, run my hands over him and press my body against his. My brain couldn't understand why he wasn't letting me.

Phil sighed, despairingly, getting up off the bed. "Just… sleep it off, Dan. I'll talk to you in the morning."

I wanted to argue but the alcohol rendered me incapable of speech. Instead, against my own will, I became engulfed by the comforting feel and smell of Phil's bedsheets and within a minute I had already drifted off to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

I woke up at around midday going by the aggressively vibrant figures on Phil's alarm clock, which was the first thing I saw when my eyes adjusted. This also reminded me that I was in Phil's room, causing the events of last night to come flooding back to me.

I groaned at the memory of it. Never in my life had I been so mortified. The details were a bit foggy but I could remember the gist of what happened. It was burned indelibly into the back of my mind.

God, I'm so stupid. I'm actually so incredibly stupid.

I noticed that despite it being well and truly daytime the room remained dark. The curtains were carefully drawn, forbidding any light from entering and disturbing the dimness. I was grateful. I knew that I was hungover, could feel the dull throbbing in my head, but the absence of light and sound and movement made it bearable for the time being.

"How are you feeling?" I heard Phil say softly. I looked to my right, slowly, but apparently not slow enough for my aching head, and saw Phil sat on his desk chair by the side of the bed. He had his knees drawn up with his chin resting on top.

And all of a sudden my mind replaced him with the Phil from last night. Phil with tussled hair, pink tinged cheeks, dilated pupils and an undeniable hunger. I swallowed hard, and tried to shake the image.

I simply groaned in response to his question, as it was accurate at describing how I was feeling and was the only thing that I could manage to get out. Phil smiled crookedly at my reaction.

"I got you some water. I've found it helps." He indicated the glass sat on the bedside table. He was speaking in the same quiet voice, evidently trying not to be so loud as to cause me pain. "And I could get you some breakfast if you like. Or lunch, more accurately." He added with a small laugh as he glanced at the clock.

Just the thought of food made me queasy. And I didn't want to hurl in front of Phil. I didn't need the further embarrassment. "No. Water's fine. Thanks." I murmured, wincing as my words sent sharp stabbing pains through my skull. My voice sounded scratchy and strained.

There was a brief period of awkward silence. "Dan?"

"Mmhm?"

"How much do you remember of last night?" Phil asked.

I closed my eyes and cringed. Too much. I remembered too much. I remembered the party. I remembered my break down. I remembered Phil, my hands in his hair, my lips against his and… oh god. Did I try to take his pants off?

"Not much." I lied, in a slightly higher pitch than normal. My face was burning, but I hoped it was too dark for Phil to notice. "I remember, uh, crying, but… that's about it." Liar.

Why was I lying? It's not as if by doing so I could erase the night from existence. Me pretending that I didn't remember anything in no way changed the fact that Phil, who was sober at the time, obviously did. God, he would remember _everything_. Every fucking detail.

"Oh." Phil said quietly. I couldn't tell if he was disappointed or relieved or what, and I could usually always tell with him. But this time his face remained impassive and it was unsettling to say the least. Until his face suddenly broke out into a mischievous smile. "Yeah, you cried quite a bit. Sobbed really." Phil said amusedly.

"Shut up." I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Bawled like a baby."

"Stop." I whined.

"You're cute when you cry."

"Phil!" I pleaded, hiding my face in his pillow so that his name came out muffled. I could hear him snickering quietly to himself. The bastard. For one glorious moment, everything seemed to go back to the way it was. There was no awkwardness between the two of us, no tension. It was just like it used to be. How I'd missed that.

"But seriously, though." Phil said, once he regained his composure and I deemed it okay to leave the safety of the pillow. "Are you okay?" His eyes were clouded with worry.

I looked up at the ceiling and sighed, shaking my head. "I need to call Cat."

"A good call or a bad call?"

"A bad call." A very bad, very uncomfortable, and very humiliating call.

Phil nodded solemnly. "Honestly, Dan. What happened?"

 _I said your name right before sex_. It was undoubtedly the most embarrassing event from last night. Just thinking about it mortified me. Turned my cheeks the darkest shade of red possible and sent me spiraling into a cringe attack like no other. I didn't answer.

"Well, I can't imagine it was that bad if she's still trying to contact you." Phil said casually, lifting up my phone.

I blanched. "What?"

"Five missed calls. Two voice mails. Eleven messages." Phil said before putting in my passcode and unlocking my phone.

I sat up quickly ignoring the pain that exploded in my head at the sudden movement. What if Cat _did_ hear what I said? What if she mentioned it in a message? What if Phil saw the message and found out what happened? I panicked and tried to snatch my phone back but Phil simply spun slightly in his chair, moving it out of my reach.

He started reading aloud my messages. "'What happened?', 'Why'd you freak out like that?', 'Where are you?', 'I'm worried about you', 'Please reply.'" I breathed a sigh of relief that Cat was almost as clueless as Phil was about the whole event. I alone knew the true embarrassment of what happened last night. And I was taking it with me to the grave.

Phil looked at me concernedly. Patiently waiting for an explanation that he wasn't going to get.

I felt awful. He let me into his house at some god forsaken hour and comforted me while I cried. He let me crash on his bed, probably forcing him to sleep on the couch downstairs which I knew from experience was far from comfortable. He made my predicted hangover as bearable as possible by blocking out the light, pouring me a glass of water and offering to make me breakfast.

And he did it all without an explanation. And without complaint too. Because that's just who Phil is.

In that instant it all became so blindingly obvious. They say a drunk mind speaks a sober heart. That the lowering of inhibitions allows people to verbalise and act upon their truest desires.

And fuck, if that wasn't the case for last night. Because even though the alcohol had for the most part left my system the urge to lean in and kiss Phil had definitely not.

Last night didn't happen simply because I was drunk and he was there. Last night happened because the part of me that repeatedly squashed any non platonic feelings I had for Phil let its guard down. And the feelings saw the opportunity to sneak up to the surface and convince my impressionable mind to act on them.

And boy did they make their point loud and clear. As cringeworthy as it was to my now sober brain I couldn't deny that I loved every fucking minute of it. It was unequivocally, most assuredly, the best kiss that I'd ever had.

The first time Phil kissed me I could ignore the response it evoked. I could put it down to the strangeness of the situation, the shock of having my best friend kiss me out of the blue. But this was the second kiss, and the effect was only more intense. I couldn't ignore it now. There was no other explanation.

I was definitely not straight.

And I was head over heels in love with Phil Lester.


	20. Chapter 20

Being in love was a peculiar experience. I was astounded by how utterly consuming the whole affair was. How much it took over your life.

Once I had admitted it to myself it was literally all I could think about. I'd opened the floodgates and there was no stopping the tidal wave that came cascading through.

I was crushing _hard_. Embarrassingly so. The attraction had been growing without my acknowledgement for months and only now did I realise just how deep that attraction ran.

Every second of everyday, waking or sleeping, my mind was on Phil. Which was extremely problematic for a number of reasons. For example, how the fuck was I supposed to get anything done? I wasn't the most productive person to begin with but this was getting ridiculous. Even the most menial of tasks become exhaustingly difficult when you're brain is constantly elsewhere.

I could not for the life of me stop staring at Phil. I know that I did that a fair amount before but it had now reached a whole new level of creepy. I couldn't help it. My eyes were simply drawn to him. Almost like some magnetic force was acting on them, with Phil at the centre of the field.

And I couldn't look at him the same way either. Every time I saw him I remembered _that night_. And with surprising clarity given my blood alcohol levels. Or perhaps my brain had simply filled in the fine details over time. I had replayed it often enough. It was definitely a possibility.

Whenever my mind was left to wander it conjured up all these scenarios in which I'd get to kiss him again. Shockingly vivid and wildly inappropriate scenarios that made me incredibly grateful that Phil did not possess the power of telepathy.

I had spoken to Cat the day after waking up at Phil's. Because the guilt was ripping me a part I told her what had happened. Not the saying Phil's name part (which I was never going to speak of to anyone ever) but the fact that I'd kissed someone else. Someone who I realised I had feelings for. She wasn't entirely thrilled about it but she didn't hate me. As she pointed out, we never actually discussed if we were exclusive. And now we'd never have to.

One of the perks of finally accepting my feelings toward Phil was the return of the fantastic foursome. Just like that the heavy cloud of tension that I usually carried with me, forever dampening the mood, completely dissipated and everything went back to normal.

Well, almost back to normal. If you ignored the fact that I now blushed whenever Phil spoke to me. And my heart somersaulted when he looked at me. And my breath hitched when he touched me. Let's face it. I was complete Phil trash by this point.

Now that I had crossed that bridge I couldn't understand why the idea of having non platonic feelings for a guy had terrified me so much. Why had I made it into such a big deal? So what if I wasn't straight? Thinking about I didn't understand how anyone could be _completely_ straight. Is it not the person that attracts you more so than the gender?

Coming from one who so forcefully tried to deny it, attempting to repress those kinds of emotions doesn't work. If you _feel_ something for someone else, pure and genuine attraction toward another, there's really nothing you can do about it. It's a losing battle. Feelings like that were powerful. And it was almost pointless to try and fight them.

To simply accept them, no matter how terrifying a prospect, is perhaps the most liberating experience in existence.

And perhaps the most frustrating too, as I was now stuck with the problem of how to act on them. I'd thought that Phil might have felt the same. After all he kissed me first. And then he kissed me back. And he'd said that he didn't look at me the way he looks at a friend. What other way was there to interpret that? The evidence was there and the thought made me giddy with excitement.

But the paranoia returned and made me question it. What if I'd missed my window of opportunity and he'd moved on? What if it none of it meant anything and it was just the heat of the moment? The doubts persistently plagued my mind. I needed to vent to someone. I needed to release some of the pressure that was building up inside of me or I'd explode.

I could have gone straight to PJ's house but decided to just call him instead. I anticipated a lot of potential awkwardness and lacked the bravery to deal with that in person.

As soon as he picked up, before he even had the chance to say hello, I spoke. "You were right." I blurted out.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I often am. But what in particular is this in reference to?" PJ asked. He sounded amused. I was willing to bet anything that he already knew what I talking about. He just wanted me to say it out loud.

"I like Phil." I confessed. "Fuck, I like Phil a lot."

I could just _sense_ the pompous smirk on PJ's face. Could practically hear the satisfaction dripping in his voice. "I like Phil too. He's a pretty neat guy. What's your point?"

"You know what I mean, Peej." I sighed, exasperated.

"No, I don't."

"Don't make me say it."

"Say what, Dan?"

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. "Ilovephil." I mumbled, the words blending together.

"Sorry? Didn't quite catch that. You mind saying it again? A little louder this time?" He was having far too much fun with this.

I definitely wouldn't have been able to have this conversation face to face. I would have already strangled him by this point. "I. Love. Phil." I said clearly. "And I fucking hate you."

"Okay, firstly… rude. Secondly, it's about damn time, Howell! Have you told him? Are you two together? Have you set a date for the wedding? Have you discussed baby names?"

I blushed furiously but couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. "No to all of the above."

"Well then what are you waiting for?" he asked. What was I waiting for? For Phil to make a move? Not necessarily. I was just waiting for a confirmation of some sort. Some reassurance that Phil felt the same way. I didn't think I could handle the rejection if he didn't.

"What if he doesn't like me back?" I asked, voicing my fear. I hated how pathetic I sounded.

Stunned silence followed. "Are you actually kidding me?" PJ asked, disbelief in his tone.

"…No?" I was confused at his response.

"You're an idiot." He said, but he sounded sympathetic. Like I was an idiot that he couldn't help but take pity on. "He likes you, okay? Trust me."

"How do you know? Did he say something to you?" I asked instantly perking up before internally groaning at how pre-teeny I sounded. God, it felt like I was back in primary school.

"Oh, you're so precious." PJ sighed. "No, he didn't say anything. He didn't have to."


	21. Chapter 21

I had this half written monologue in my brain of what I was going to say to Phil that I kept reciting over and over again, editing and adjusting it. But I just couldn't get it to sound right. And I needed it to sound right. Phil's reaction to my words would mean the difference between complete ecstasy or crushing devastation.

I groaned at how pathetic I was. At what I had been reduced to. I was in _deep_. I wish I hadn't lied and just told him that I did remember kissing him. It was the perfect opportunity. He would have asked why I did it and I would have said 'I don't know, I guess I like you' and he would have said 'oh, cool. I like you too' and then maybe we would have made out a little and uh, it all would have been so easy.

But now I'd built it up too much, given my fears and anxieties room to grow, and it was just becoming more and more difficult to figure out what to say and to find an appropriate time to say it.

I sighed frustratingly, currently sat on his couch watching a movie. Or to be more accurate, Phil, Chris and PJ were watching a movie while I not so subtly watched Phil. We were sat close together, closer than was necessary given the excess amount of space on the couch and it made my heart flutter frantically and my hands sweat nervously.

I tried to read Phil's expression. To see if he was experiencing any of the same symptoms that I was. But he looked calm. Neutral. Unfazed by the fact that there was less than a ruler's length between the two of us. And then there was me, casually having a heart attack.

Phil, surely sensing my stare, looked over at me. He smiled dazzlingly and I melted inside.

 _Kiss him._ The small voice in the back of my head said.

No, I'm not going to do that.

 _Why not?_

Chris and PJ are here.

 _So? They won't mind. Kiss him!_

I tuned out the voice but god, I wanted so badly to just do it. I craved the feel of Phil's lips so strongly that my body literally ached for it. The urge tugged and twisted at my stomach, tying it into knots. Was this normal? This response seemed far too extreme in my eyes. But I'd never been in love before, so what did I know.

I realised that I had been staring at Phil's mouth and quickly flicked my eyes up to his and returned his smile before trying to look engrossed in the movie. I could feel his eyes still looking at me and blushed under the scrutiny of his gaze.

Not long after the movie ended Phil headed to the kitchen to go grab snacks. He'd only just left the room when Chris suddenly decided to throw the TV remote at my head. Hard.

"Ow! What the hell?" I growled at him, rubbing my head where it had hit me. That was most definitely going to leave a bump.

"Tell him you love him, you fucking spork."

I quickly spun around to check that Phil was definitely out of ear shot. "I - what?" I said flustered. Chris continued to glare at me murderously while PJ just snickered quietly to himself.

"You love him. He loves you. Just be together already. Jesus Christ, it's not fucking rocket science." Chris said, clearly exasperated.

"How... PJ!" I said indignantly.

"Hey don't look at me. I didn't say anything." PJ held his hands up in innocence but he was grinning from ear to ear.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You seriously think you're being subtle about this? Did you think I wouldn't notice the little heart eyes going on just then?" Chris said. "Please, give me a little credit."

I sighed. There was no point trying to hide it. I knew I was being obvious. Obvious to everyone except Phil it would seem.

"Now grow some balls and tell him, douche noodle. Before I lock you both in a cupboard." **(A/N: inspired by Kigen Dawn :P)**

I wasn't sure if he was being genuine but honestly? A part of my brain didn't think it was that bad an idea and actually considered it for a second. I hastily cleared my head before my mind started to wander, returning to the conversation at hand. "But what... how do I just... bring that up? What do I say?" I asked awkwardly.

Chris cleared his throat and raised an arm dramatically. "Roses are red, violets are blue. I like spaghetti. Let's go fuck."

If I had had a drink in my mouth it would have been one of those comic occurrences where I sprayed it everywhere. But drinkless, I sputtered and began choking on thin air instead. I really shouldn't have expected anything less coming from Chris.

"Wow. That's was beautiful." PJ said, wiping away a non existent tear and completely ignoring the fact that I was coughing my lungs up. "Is that Shakespeare?" he asked.

"Nah, Tennyson." Chris said, waving his hand airily. "Or you know what?" Chris continued, suddenly hit with inspiration. "Don't say anything at all. Just kiss him. Launch yourself at him. Hump his fucking brains out. I'm sure that'd get the message across."

I had only just recovered and was about to reply when Phil walked back into the room. My cheeks burned uncontrollably and I silently cursed Chris and PJ who were trying, and failing, to conceal their laughter at my reaction.

"What did I miss?" Phil asked, brows furrowed in confusion. PJ and Chris properly burst out laughing, gasping for air and clearly unable to answer. So Phil turned to me instead. "What are we talking about?" he pouted.

I panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head. "Poetry."

To which PJ and Chris actually lost it. "Poetry." Phil repeated slowly with an air of skepticism. "You're discussing... poetry."

PJ, now wiping away real tears, simply nodded. "Yes, it turns out Chris is quite the master."

Chris shrugged modestly. "I would recite some of my work," he began, while I glared at him and furiously shook my head, "but I'm afraid I should really get going."

Phil seemed to deflate at his words. "Really? But it's still early!"

"Sorry, man. PJ and I have an assignment we have to get done." he said straight off the bat, not even missing a beat. I knew he was lying. For one thing, Chris rarely did school work, let alone outside of school hours. Secondly, him and PJ didn't even have any classes together. Thirdly, the look he gave me was clear as crystal: _Now's your chance. Don't screw it up_.

"We do?" PJ asked puzzled, a little late on the uptake. But with a pointed look from Chris he eventually got the hint. "Yes! We do! Let's go do, Chris!" PJ said enthusiastically, leaping to his feet and looping his arm with Chris's before waltzing out of the room.

"Well... bye I guess." Phil muttered, frowning at their abrupt departure.

Leaving the two of us alone.


	22. Chapter 22

"Dan. Are you even listening to me?" Phil laughed. He snapped his fingers in front of my face, trying to get my attention. Technically, he already did have my attention. He was pretty much the only thing on my mind. I'd say that qualifies as _very_ attentive.

But I was more so focused on trying to finish my monologue to him than on what he was actually saying. "I'm sorry. What?" I asked.

He tsked disapprovingly, shaking his head and causing his fringe to fall into his eyes. "You know sometimes I wonder if…" he trailed off. I had instinctively reached over to brush the strands of hair out of his face. I didn't think. I just did. My eyes widened marginally when I realised what I was doing. But he didn't pull back, so I took that as a good sign.

I allowed my fingers to linger perhaps a little longer than was necessary. But then his hand came up to encircle my wrist, preventing me from fixing his hair any further. His eyes had closed and his breathing was suddenly laboured. "Stop. Please… just stop."

I felt like I'd been slapped. My stomach dropped. _He didn't want this_. My fears were confirmed. Fuck, I was going to kill Chris and PJ. I tried to swallow back the horrible lump that formed in my throat. "Why?" I managed to choke out.

Phil still wouldn't open his eyes. He shook his head slightly. "I can't keep doing this, Dan. I can't." he breathed.

His words threw me. "Doing what?" I blinked at him, completely clueless.

"This!" Phil almost shouted, his eyes flying open. He dropped my arm as if it had burned him and jumped to his feet. "Damn it, Dan! You can't just… you keep giving me these mixed signals and I just – I can't fucking take it anymore!"

I flinched at the harshness to his words. Fear rooted me to the spot. He never swore. Never lost control like that. His piercing blue eyes were unblinking and unwilling to break contact with mine. "Do you have feelings for me or not?" he demanded bluntly.

My brain was screaming at me. _YES! JUST SAY YES! JESUS CHRIST, IT'S JUST ONE SYLLABLE!_ But my mouth completely dried up and I felt as if I physically couldn't form the words. I was still reeling in shock.

Phil ran his hands over his face in frustration and took a deep breath to compose himself. "Please. I – I need an answer." He begged, his eyes pleading. In that moment he looked so broken, so defeated. And it hurt. It hurt so bad to see him like that that I wanted to cry. I wanted to hug him and comfort him. I was prepared to say or do literally anything to make him okay.

But I was frozen. I remembered promising myself, when Phil first told me he was gay and I was late to react, that I would never do anything to upset him ever again. And I broke that promise. I took it, smashed it to a million pieces, and burned the remains.

Before me stood a Phil so clearly full of pain and anguish, more torment than any human ever deserved to be in. And I'm the one that caused that.

"I'm forever putting others first," Phil continued softly. "You especially. All I've ever wanted was to make others happy. That's it. But just this once, I - I have to think about myself, I'm sorry."

I wanted to tell him to stop apologising for things that he had no reason to be apologising for. To stop blaming himself when he'd done nothing wrong. And I opened my mouth to say all of this, to tell him everything. To let it all come spilling out. But he spoke before I had the chance.

"I need you to tell me that this isn't going to happen. I need you to close that door once and for all so that I can finally move on. If you don't, if you leave me with even the slightest possibility that you could actually feel the same way about me as I do about you, then I'm always going to hold out hope. And it's going to kill me." he said feebly.

"Phil…" I whispered. There was too much to say, I didn't know where to begin. So instead, my heart pounding painfully in my chest, I stood up, walked over to Phil, lightly placed my hands on either side of his face and pressed my lips to his.

It was the first time that I had initiated the kiss and been fully sober as I was doing it. And it was literally the scariest thing I'd ever done. My hands were sweating, my body was shaking, my heart was palpitating. I was terrified.

But my fears quickly subsided by his immediate response. There was no hesitation on his part whatsoever. He pulled me in closer to him, his hands earnestly gripping my waist. And fuck, if it wasn't the best feeling in the entire universe.

My mind was wiped blank and my surroundings faded into nothingness, until all that remained was me and Phil. And with the absence of distractions came a heightened sense of what was happening in the moment.

I could feel it all. I could feel Phil's heart hammering just as quickly and fiercely as my own. I could feel the warmth of his hands on the small of my back, even through the layers of clothing. Every touch, every breath, every sensation was amplified. Even the smallest of actions had the power to overstimulate my nerves.

Every point of contact sent sparks of electricity coursing through me, surging through my veins and making my limbs turn to jelly. I wondered if this was always going to my reaction every time we made any form of contact. I wouldn't complain if it was.

My entire body thrummed in excitement. Or pleasure. Or desire. I didn't even know anymore. And I didn't care. All I knew with certainty was that I never wanted it to end. If reason and plausibility allowed it, I would never pull away. I'd happily lose myself in that feeling forever.

My hands instinctively tangled themselves in his hair and I moaned at the relief of finally being able to do that again. Being able to do all of it.

There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that this was what I wanted. That _Phil_ was what I wanted, more than anything else in existence. I could have kicked myself for not having reached that conclusion sooner. For not being brave enough to acknowledge it. All that pain I caused, all that confusion that I dealt with, all that time wasted when we could have been doing _this_.

"Don't mind me. Just forgot my…" I hastily snapped my head around at the sound of Chris' voice. He was stood in the doorframe, frozen mid speech. He looked the two of us up and down as he processed the scene before him. Phil's arms were still wrapped tightly around me and my hands remained lost in his hair.

A smile grew on his face, gradually transforming into the biggest grin of his that I'd ever seen. He didn't say anything. Didn't retrieve the mystery item he had returned for. He just slowly walked backwards out of the room. Once out of sight I heard him sprint back up the stairs and shout, "PEEJ! THEY'RE DOING THE DO!" to which he received a delighted whoop in response.

I should have been embarrassed. And perhaps the old me would have been. But I honestly didn't give a shit anymore. I rested my forehead against Phil's and laughed. We were both breathing heavily and I grinned goofily from ear to ear. "Fuck, I've been wanting to do that for so long now." I sighed.

Phil gave a little hum in agreement. His eyes were closed and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He looked so content, so at peace. It was adorable. "Just one question, though..." he murmured.

"Yeah?"

"…You're not drunk, right?"

I chuckled and shoved him playfully. "Fuck off."

"Language." He scolded me, smirking.

"You're one to talk. You literally just swore not five minutes ago."

"I did no such thing." He said in mock in appal.

"Oh really? Because-" but I didn't get to finish my sentence. I was abruptly cut off when Phil leaned in to kiss me again. And I didn't mind one bit.


	23. Chapter 23

"Is this too weird for you?" Phil asked. "You're being quieter than usual."

We were waiting in line to be seated at the restaurant before we headed on over to the cinema. Because that's what people did on dates. Dinner and a movie.

I shook my head biting my lip. "No." but I was lying. "Okay, yeah. It's a little... weird." Phil nodded but didn't say anything. I hoped I hadn't upset him. "I'm sorry. It's just... I'm still getting used to this. I'm sorry."

"No, I get it. I do." Phil assured me, smiling. "To be honest, I'm feeling the same. We were friends and now we're... more than that. It's bound to be a little awkward at first."

I nodded my head. It was all so bizarre. I was on a date. With a guy. And not just any guy. _Phil_. I'd never been this nervous on a date before. And I didn't think I would be. Because after all _it was Phil_. The person who I felt the most comfortable with than anyone else in the world. The person who knew me inside and out, better than I knew myself.

But perhaps it was because we were so familiar with each other that made it awkward. First dates were for getting to know one another. Asking questions and discovering their likes, their dislikes. Their hobbies and aspirations. It was routine. But Phil and I got all of that out of the way the day we first met. And we only delved deeper in the months that came to follow. I already knew everything there was to know about him and vice versa.

"Let's go." Phil said abruptly, turning to leave.

Panic immediately set in and I silently cursed myself for already screwing things up. "No. Phil, wait! I'm sorry! I'll try harder!" I grabbed his sleeve, terrified that he'd walk away from me but Phil just looked down at my hand desperately gripping his arm in confusion.

"I meant let's just leave the restaurant. Do something we're more comfortable with."

"Oh." I said, feeling stupid and letting go of his arm. "Right." _God Dan, do you have no chill?_

Phil laughed at my over-reaction but didn't comment on it further. "How about we go to mine, order some pizza and play Sonic instead? Sound good?"

I smiled. "Sounds perfect." And it did. It sounded so wonderfully perfect that I swear I fell in love with Phil all over again.

How did Phil do it? How did he _always_ make people smile, even if they didn't want to? Without trying, without any effort on his part whatsoever? I wondered if he was aware of this phenomenon. If he knew that he had this super power and consciously wielded it whenever he wanted. I didn't think so somehow. It seemed so involuntarily, so automatic. Like he had no idea of the effect that he had on people.

The effect he had on me.

And when he leaned in to whisper, "And then maybe we can make out a little," I actually lost it. I was genuinely surprised my legs didn't give out beneath me the effect was that powerful. Phil was going to be the death of me, I swear.

We left the restaurant and started walking to his house. It was a clear night. No clouds, just an endless array of stars. The weather had been nice to us these past few weeks. It finally felt like winter was coming to an end, for which I was glad. By this point I'd had enough of the storms and the snow and the cold. Fuck winter. Bring on summer already.

We fell into a comfortable silence as we walked. Once we'd decided to go against the generic first date ritual the pressure to act all couple-y and flirtatious disappeared. Which was good as I had no idea know how to do that. And I certainly didn't know how to do that with Phil.

I watched Phil as we walked. Obviously. Because no matter how beautiful and alluring the night sky was, Phil was by far more pleasing to look at. No question about it. He looked at the ground as he walked, a slight smile on his lips.

His lips, which if I wanted to, I was allowed to kiss. And if I wanted to reach out and hold his hand then I could that too. I was allowed to do these things now. And I often did. I very much took advantage of that new found permission. It was definitely one of the biggest perks of moving into the 'more than friends' stage.

About halfway there Phil piped up. "So, uh, you like Muse?" he asked, mimicking my poor attempt at socialising the first time we'd met.

I chuckled under my breath. "Oh, God. The cringe." I said remembering that day.

Phil shrugged. "I thought it was cute." I rolled my eyes. "But then again, everything you do I find cute." I felt my face heat up instantly. He had said things like this before but now it was different. He wasn't just joking around. He meant it.

Phil playfully nudged my shoulder. "Here's where you say that I'm cute too." He smiled at me, his tongue poking out the side a little. And fuck if it was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. My heart did a little flip at the mere sight of it.

I laughed. "You're cute too, Phil." He beamed at me this time and I died a little bit. Phil was more than cute. Phil was the freaking sun. He was radiant. He was awe-inspiring. He was, well... pretty fucking hot.

But it was more than that. His personality seemed to extend outwards and you could see it when you looked at him. His face was painted with kindness and happiness and selflessness. Everything that made him who he was. It all shined out from him. Transcended into the physical realm and was made clear for anyone to see. And that's what made him beautiful.

I was abruptly pulled out of my own thoughts when Phil out of nowhere slid his hand into mine. My heart skipped a beat at his touch, as it always did. I didn't pull back, which would have been my initial instinct if I were the old me. But I wasn't. So instead, heart fluttering wildly in my chest, I gave a small squeeze to let him know I was okay with it.

And I was more than okay with it. His hand was so warm, so soft, so comforting against my own. I didn't want to ever let go.

* * *

 **A/N ^Just a heads up that this is the final chapter aside from the epilogue, which will be up soon I promise :3**


	24. Epilogue

"Hello internet! Okay. Right. So. If you clicked on this wanting to see more of my usual style of videos then I'm sorry to disappoint, but this isn't one of them. Honestly? I don't know what this is going to be. I'm just going to sit here and say whatever comes into my head and just… leave the camera rolling.

"First off, I'd like to thank you all for watching my videos. It's literally insane how many of you there are. Thanks for all the support and encouragement that you give me and just… yeah. Thank you so much. You guys are the best. It's weird to think that this all started off as just a requirement for my media class. I mean, if that's not incentive to attend school than I don't know what is...

"I feel like I share a lot of my life with you guys but at the same time, don't. I mean I post all these skits and stories and everything. But like, I never just sit down and talk to you about what's going on in my life. I only share with you the funny stuff that happens but none of the _real_ stuff.

"I want to start doing that more, I think. I love you guys and you're such a major part of my life and I don't know, it feels weird to not share the other major parts of my life with you. I haven't necessarily been hiding them, I just haven't properly addressed or confirmed them.

"I want to talk to you about Phil. And if you don't know who Phil is then… you've clearly been living under a rock because he's been in the majority of my videos since the very beginning.

"Phil is my friend. My best friend. That's how I've always introduced him. And that wasn't a lie. Phil _is_ my best friend. But he's also more than that.

"Phil is… I can't even describe what Phil is to me. I was going to say 'my world' but that's just so incredibly cringey. And I know he's going to watch this and he's never going to let me live that down.

"But it's true. Phil means literally everything to me. He's without a doubt my favourite person on the face of the earth and I am so fucking grateful that he's a part of my life. Like, you don't even know.

"My life was so _plain_ before he came into it. So painstakingly boring. And I didn't even realise it at the time, you know? I didn't think that I was missing out on anything. And then I met Phil and everything just...changed. Things weren't so dull all of a sudden. They became exciting and intense and weird and wonderful. I started to actually feel things. And I experienced real, genuine happiness for the first time in, well... ever.

"Phil _is_ happiness. And if you're ever lucky enough to meet him in real life you'll know exactly what I mean by that. He… I don't know. _Radiates_ it. I'm not saying that he's happy 24/7. That he doesn't get upset or frustrated or angry sometimes. Because he does. Everyone does.

"But he never lets it get to him, you know? It never stops him from trying to make _others_ happy. It doesn't stop him from smiling at people, complimenting them, stopping to make sure they're okay. And if they're not okay, dropping everything to try and fix that, regardless of who it is.

"It honestly baffles me how one person can be so genuinely amazing. He's funny and kind and insightful and caring and eccentric. And just… amazing. I swear I must have been mother Theresa in a past life or something to deserve someone like him.

"I love you, Phil Lester. And I'm sorry that it took me so long to figure that out. It's still kind of scary to say, but I'm getting used to it. I fucking love you.

"I don't care how sappy I sound. I don't care about how much crap I'm going to get for this. All the snide comments and slurs, all the teasing and the bullying, I just - I honestly don't give a shit about any of it. I really don't. I'm just glad that I'm able to say that to you.

"So… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. Sorry it turned into a video for Phil at the end there. If you're watching, Phil, stop eating my cereal, you little shit.

"Anyway, I'm glad that I'm sharing this with you guys. This was good. This was cathartic. I feel like we're a lot closer now. Like we've just hit third base in the emotional sense... except not. Because that's sounds weird. And half of you are like twelve and that would probably be illegal...

"If you want me to make more of these overly sentimental and disgustingly cheesy videos then leave a comment below and I… probably won't, let's be real. And if you missed my last video I'll leave a link in the description so you can go check that out. It's much less sappy, I promise.

"I'll let you get on with your fangirling. Try not to break the internet, please. And I'll see you guys next time. Bye!"


	25. Author's Note

***You don't have to read this bit, it's really not that important. It's just me gushing about how awesome you all are. So if you love compliments then by all means continue reading... :P**

Wow. Like holy smokes you guys are amazing. I was really not expecting to get this much support and encouragement and just asdfghjkjhdgfhk I love you all so much. Sending virtual hugs to each and every one of you.

Every time I read one of your reviews it honestly makes my day. Literally. The amount of positive feedback has been overwhelming. While updating this story I've been the happiest that I've been in ages and it's entirely because of you guys. And I know I'm being so cheesy and lame right now but I just really, really, want you guys to know how much it means to me.

I've loved writing this story. Practically 30k words? When did that even happen? That's insane! I wrote most of the story before I even posted the first chapter, and it was originally like half as a long as it is now. Around 12 chapters maybe. That was the plan anyway. But then I got so many comments and ideas and encouragement from you guys and it grew into this? Like... whut?

I for sure want to keep writing. And hopefully I can get the next story up soon. Everytime I got stuck when writing this one I would start writing something else instead. So I've now got heaps of half written stories stored up and it's just a matter of which one to focus on first :P

Anyway, thanks for reading "New to Me." Not gonna lie, kind of got a bit emotional posting the epilogue :P Honestly, I could've just kept writing forever, but it had to end sometime. And I'm happy with where it ended :)

Bye for now! Stay happy, stay safe, stay fabulous!

* * *

I dedicate this story to all of my lovely reviewers! And yes, I am going to list you all. And yes, I do have more important things I should be doing. And no, I really don't care about that :P

Massive thanks to phantrash218, Latte22, Kigen Dawn, stern. lea88, LoveThemGayShips, Wisteria, hazelharrison5, ThatPhanIsInsane, kira, flyinpigs223, louisede. luna. 7 and the anonymous guest reviewers! You guys are awesome!


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